


How to build a self from burning shards

by line_greys



Series: Post Black Eagles Route Headcanons [3]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alpha Hubert von Vestra, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/F, F/M, Friendship/Love, Hubert von Vestra is a Mess, It Took Me Way Too Long to Write This, M/M, Mild Language, Post-Black Eagles Route (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Post-Canon, Sexual Content, Slow Burn, Soft Hubert von Vestra, Unrequited Love, endgame hubernie, fire metaphors, lots of fire metaphors, slow burn hubernie
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-14
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:41:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 26,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26175172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/line_greys/pseuds/line_greys
Summary: Hubert had never learned how to deal with failure. Defeat in battle equaled death, and he’d always been prepared for that. But a collapse of his heart meant being thrown into hell alive, and forced to move through while everyone could watch him decompose.Because the truth is, Hubert von Vestra doesn’t know who he is, what he wants, or what he needs. In fact, he'd always thought he didn't need anything, but more and more of what he used to think he knew has started running from him. His sense of self has shattered into a pile of burning shards, and all he can do is gather the pieces and try to rebuild. But all by himself he does not know his shape, and it looks like he might lose it in the reassembling process. Is there anyone who can catch him?(hubert centric fic about a lot of things but in short: hubert has a much to learn, and bernie might have a lesson or two to teach him (though it might take a while until we get there))
Relationships: Bernadetta von Varley/Hubert von Vestra, Edelgard von Hresvelg/My Unit | Byleth, Ferdinand von Aegir/Hubert von Vestra, Jeritza von Hrym/Hubert von Vestra
Series: Post Black Eagles Route Headcanons [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2057841
Comments: 6
Kudos: 15





	1. Part 1, Chapter 1: Burning

**Author's Note:**

> hi! here’s a couple of notes because i can’t keep my thoughts to myself:
> 
> this started as a oneshot about hubert’s unrequited feelings for edelgard (bc let’s be honest edelgard fell for byleth within approximately 0.2 seconds), but then it turned into a full blown slow burn character deconstruction 4 part story arc. there’s quite a lot of sadness, but things get better and clear up in the end because i like to believe in good endings. 
> 
> so, my mind has been all hubert von vestra for literally the last ~~two months~~ year. an experience i didn’t know i wanted but certainly do not regret. the more i thought about him the more my heart hurt for him, and basically i tried/am trying to dump all of it into this fic because it will eat me otherwise.
> 
> and one last thing: hubernie is the “main ship” but the slow burn tag is there for a reason and i'll be having some fun with other ships on the way. aspiring to make their relationship feel deep in the end because i really believe they can bring out the best in each other, but they also have lots of potential to clash. it’s gonna be a long (painful) ride, but maybe a couple of fellow drama lovers will join me, hope you enjoy :)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 1, where Hubert breaks and breaks again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there will be a lot more character interaction starting from chapter 3, that’s also when ferdinand and jeritza start to play larger roles. the first two chapters are mostly pain n-n

_It is you, Lady Edelgard,_ his words hammered in his head. Like an iron fist they beat against his temples until he couldn’t feel them anymore, could not feel any part of his body anymore, not his painfully clenched teeth, nor the fingernails piercing into the red skin under his eyes. _It is you,_ his thoughts whispered, and whispered again. _It is you._

The day he’d told her was far gone, and he’d known of her true feelings even then — but it was only as of today that she was irretrievably taken, and it felt as if she had just plucked his heart out of his chest and squeezed it out between two fingers. All these years he’d told himself he’d make peace with whoever she would choose as long as she didn’t stray from her path... and here he was now, stabbed over and over again every time he thought of her, and himself, and what they couldn’t ever have been. Because the truth was, he still wanted her. He wanted her so much he would give her his everything, but he knew now that if he offered it, she wouldn’t take it. He felt his everything melt in his hands as he held it kneeling at her feet, just like years ago when he’d confessed his feelings to her knowing fully well she wouldn’t ever return them. But he had hoped, deep down he had hoped, and he truly, bitterly despised himself for it.

 _Hubert, I will be announcing an event of great importance today_ , her voice from this morning cut into his head, recalling the words she had told him in the throne room, that had shattered his sky and caused it to collapse on him. He pulled his hands over his skull and dug into his hair as if to guard against them. 

_Next month, I will marry the prof— no, Byleth_ , she had said, with a soft smile on her lips when she corrected herself, and to Hubert it had felt as if Sothis had knocked out the lights in his head, and replaced them with scratchy burning cotton. 

_I will marry Byleth._

Her voice echoed in his head, and each time it felt like a punch to the gut. What he didn’t understand was why her feelings hurt him this much, when he’d already known of them for so long. Nothing had changed; the only thing a marriage would alter was formalities, and Hubert couldn’t care less about those. But standing in the darkness of his room, back pressed against the wall, he only now realized he had lost her, irretrievably lost her in some way. And it hurt, fuck did it hurt. It hurt so much his eyes burned, his chest burned, his guts burned, and his mind was a broken record repeating only the same thoughts that fueled the fire. How Byleth had appeared out of nowhere and saved Edelgard’s life. How she had saved her life again, despite being ordered to kill her. How after 5 years of juggling insanity Edelgard began to smile again only after she came back, as if some power higher than them had decided to pull them together no matter the cost. Name that power fate, name it god, Hubert couldn’t care less. All he cared about was that he cursed it, with every tiny crumb of hateful energy he had. And he had a lot, an unimaginable lot of hate stowed in him.

_I will marry Byleth._

The smile she’d had on her lips saying that woman’s name. It hurt too much to picture it, but he couldn’t help it. And he had expected this future, he’d known it every time he looked at Edelgard’s face. She was in love, and he was just the idiot who wanted her, but told himself standing by her side was enough. And now all his carefully constructed lies — that he solely cared about Edelgard’s ambitions, that his personal desires were of no importance to him, and that the only instance he would be weak was when he was dying — one by one they imploded behind his face and shattered it and tore it down with them, and what remained in midst of the shards was only a burning helpless mass screaming for a hand, screaming for her hand, but she had given it to someone else.

And with that final choking thought the jealousy he’d sensed lurking all these years hit his back, stabbed him right in his blind spot, right between his ribs it passed through, hit some stupid weak essential organ and he bled, bled out in this room full of ghosts that whispered to him nothing but her suffocating words.

_I will marry Byleth._

He cried. A single, frustrated shout that filled the room, and left it empty when it faded away. 

He buried his head in his arms. He didn’t want to see anything. Hear anything. Feel anything. But all he had the power to do was play dead, and hope the beasts in his chest would leave him alive. He did not know how long he stood there motionlessly, until eventually, a knock on the door slowly tore through the fog.

He pressed his lips together when he heard it. He could not answer or ask who it was, because he knew his voice would break. For a moment a panic-like feeling seized him because he could not, not under any circumstance, let anyone see the mess he was right now, the mess he himself did not understand. Hiding crossed his mind and he considered it, but in the end all he did was keep sitting there in desperate silence, hoping whoever it was would just go away. 

He did not want pity from anyone, and he did not want anyone to think he needed pity. All he wanted was this shameful hot consuming pain to leave him be for just thirty godforsaken seconds so he could _breathe_ , and find a way to guard against the fire. But the fire in his heart loved his weakness, it fed on his despair, and so he kept burning with rotten, destructive passion.

If only he could be with Edelgard like he used to. Just, sitting next to her would be fine. Just brushing over her hair, or touching her face once, just holding her just once — like she had held Byleth after the goddess had left her, with eyes so tender they had melted along with her voice. Picturing it Hubert felt a painful growing pressure behind his eyes, his face curled up and he threw his head forward in confusion. Before he could notice it, a single sob shook his body like an electric shock. 

What was all of this? This was not him. He lived to serve and protect the Emperor, not cry over her. But somehow, he could not stop crying. 

“Hubert, it’s me.” a clear voice reached through the door.

Silence. His body froze, but his mind cleared up a little bit hearing somebody else’s voice. Even if it was hers.

“Can I just say something? No need to come in.” 

“Go on.” his dark hoarse voice felt alien to himself, but surprisingly, it held.

“...”

Byleth stood at the door slightly unsure. She did not know which mood he was in, and a strange cautious feeling had been with her since she had made her way over. But she recalled that regardless of it, that person in there was Hubert, and she knew he was someone she could talk to. 

“I am here to tell you that you are released from your duties for a week. You will not be bothered if you do not wish for it.” she told him. There was no answer. “And, Hubert, don’t forget...” she repeated his name deliberately, laying a hand against the door as she said quietly, but firmly: _“She still needs you.”_

“...As if I wasn’t aware of that”, Hubert scoffed behind the door, though a hint too late to be believable, and this time his voice was splitting and painfully close to breaking apart. He felt like crying again. Had the intensity of his feelings always been so plainly visible to anyone but himself? Increasingly he felt as if the whole world was pitying him behind that door, and at once he grew so frustrated he wanted to stand up and smash it, smash them all, but his insides were still burning and burning him alive so he bent over and gasped, only able to hope no one would open the door. No one did.

The next hours were quiet suffering. He repeatedly tried to sleep, but every time he thought he was numb enough a fresh wave of frustration hit him and made him toss his body over to the other side, where he desperately clutched the air in his fist in an attempt to unload the tension, until his fingers were sore and the rest of his body was sweating and he was so uncomfortable he couldn’t remember what relaxation even felt like. That was when he couldn’t take it anymore. In one push he sat up in his bed and sat still for a couple of moments, vibrating with the aggressive need to do something, anything, before eventually he snapped and tore at his shirt and tore until he heard it rip — but his fingers hurt too much and he was forced to relax them. He breathed irregularly as he stared at the wall across from him. He hated everything. 

He heard another slight knock on the door. At first, he thought it was some cruel trick of his mind, but when it knocked again, very softly, he was pulled back to the ground. He was not imagining it. Someone else was there. He held his breath and listened as a voice came through. 

“It’s me, Bernie” it whispered. “Are you awake?”

He didn’t know what he had expected, but this was certainly not it. He did not know whether, or what to respond. A few seconds passed. 

“Um... cough or something if you are!” Bernadetta tried again.

Her voice sounded as if she was searching a forest for a lost kid. Or a lost cat. Hubert could suddenly not help but to snort in something that could be described as desperate amusement. What was this newest ridiculous situation in a seemingly endless stream of ridiculous events? He’d had way too many of those today. Why was Bernadetta of all people outside his door? He couldn’t even recall the last time he’d talked to her, as she could usually rarely be seen outside her room or the library. But in any case, if she was the next one trying to talk to him about Edelgard... he really would go ahead and cast a fire spell on that door. 

“You’re awake!” the voice outside squeaked. Hubert was left dazzled. If she was surprised to find him awake, then why had she even tried so persistently to get his attention? Had she nothing else to do?

“Why are you here?” he asked tiredly, not even trying to mask the slowness in his voice.

“I can’t sleep well at night.” was the answer. Again, not what he expected. Then as she went on, she sounded nervous: “And our rooms are not far from each other, so I noticed you haven’t left yours since this morning. And Byleth was here too, so when I was lying awake I thought I’d— Ah! I’m sorry!” she interrupted herself without any apparent reason. Awkward silence spread for a few moments. Then she sighed, and it sounded disappointed.

“I apologize, I still get carried away in my speech sometimes. I’m working on it, though!” Her voice was lighter, almost hopeful this time. But again, there was no answer. Instead, another few long seconds of silence.

“I am sorry to bother you.” she finally said, and it sounded sad. The next words were muffled, as if she had turned away from the door. “I was just... wondering what you are doing. I’ll leave so you can sleep.” 

“I can’t sleep.”

Hubert wasn’t sure why he said it. He just knew that trying to sleep would only wield the same results as before, and he couldn’t continue to sit awake by himself, let alone go out where people could see him. Really, out of all the things he’d experienced today, her awkwardness was most bearable.

“Oh” she said, and it was quiet again for a while. He almost thought she had left when she asked: “Would you like me to stay here?”

He didn’t know what to respond to that. He didn’t particularly care about her being there, but somehow it seemed to be distracting him from whatever breakdown his mind had stood before again. 

“I’ll... stay then.” she said calmly after another few seconds passed in silence. “If that’s okay.”

He nodded, even though she couldn’t see it. He heard her shoes scratch over the ground and her nightdress crinkle as she sat down. 

They were quiet for a long while. At first, Hubert didn’t move, and kept sitting in the same position. Then his back started hurting, and he lied down to ease it. His thoughts were still racing but somehow they didn’t derail and run him over, as if she was a point of orientation magnetically resetting their track whenever they were about to. For just a moment, he felt he was in the eye of the storm, and she was the one holding him there. He drifted away.

He slept, though very unstably, and when he woke up, sweating, and a dry ray of sunshine heated the room, all the boiling floods broke out over him again. He felt drained, stripped of all strength and reliability, in other words all that had made him respectable. The fact that he had thrown the towel and tried to escape from his feelings into sleep didn’t help. His face curled up in frustration. 

At least yesterday’s fire had burned down. An uncomfortable numbness remained, but other thoughts could get through to him, and he could sit down at his table and start to think about the work he had been doing before without feeling the urge to rip the papers apart. He noticed he had not been updated about the current circumstances. Simultaneously he found he didn’t care. He sat still and flipped through the documents he had left there, then tried to sleep for another couple of hours, but only dozed away for about half of one, and felt even more exhausted afterwards. In the evening, he realized how hungry he was, and ordered some food to be brought to his door because he still couldn’t imagine going out. Somewhere in the back of his mind he knew there were duties for him to get to — even if Edelgard had “freed” him from them he could go back and reclaim them. But his former everyday life seemed like a feverish dream, something he could see in the distance, but never reach. He didn’t feel capable of retaking his place, or any place at all.

Standing in his bedroom somewhat lost, he looked to the window and caught sight of his reflection. There were no mirrors in his room except for the bath, but the sight of the faint outline of his body in the glass was enough to tear him down into the mud. What could she have ever wanted of him? Face and presence made for the shadows. Not much of a personality. And now all that he _had_ had — strength, intellect, reliability— had shattered into bits. Nothing left but a bulky lump of flesh.

He took a painful breath and sat down on his bed, feeling trapped in his body. He stared at the banners hanging from the wall across from him. Was there even a meaning to all of this?

He lied down. He was tired, but his brain could not pass the barrier to sleep. It was different from yesterday, where he had burned too violently to shut down; now he was too aware. Hanging trapped between painful fatigue and blinding awareness was another hell he hadn’t known existed. 

How many more would he go through this week?

Would he ever feel invincible again?

“Good evening”, a light voice suddenly cut into the room. It threw him off far until the memories lit back up in his head, and he realized he had completely forgotten about Bernadetta’s visit the night before. He rubbed his eyes. But why had she returned? He couldn’t recall having told her to.

“Did you find sleep last night?” she asked, of course not answering the question in his head.

Hubert knew he didn’t have an answer for that, so he didn’t even bother thinking about it. Instead, he tried to remember all that had happened last night. When had she even left? After he fell asleep? When had _she_ slept? His thoughts strayed off until she spoke again:

“Would you— would you mind if I talked to you about some things?”

“Do as you wish.” he replied this time, asking himself how she could be so penetrating, but respectful at the same time. As unpredictable as conversation with her could be, he found to his surprise that it was also strangely easy.

“I’m quite good at talking through the door, you know?” she said and laughed shyly but sincerely, as if in response to the astonishment in his voice. “There was a time where I preferred it to face-to-face conversation...”

“And now?” Hubert asked, suddenly mildly amused.

“I’m getting stronger too.” her voice grew sulky and he could virtually hear her purse her lips. “I’m not even scared of you anymore! At least when we’re talking to each other with the door in between.” she added with a hint of embarrassment.

Hubert was still unsure whether one could call their one-sided conversation “talking to each other”, but regardless, it was true that _she_ had been the one who’d come to speak to _him_. It could almost be called brave, considering how terrified she had once been purely of his presence and the look on his face. “It always seemed to help you not to be confronted with my natural appearance.” he replied in something one could call mocking amusement. He fell into a dark chuckle recalling the embroidered flower she had given him to wear on his jacket so he’d look less intimidating. Compared to back then, she really was showing an underlying self-confidence now, and somehow he had the feeling she wouldn’t be much shyer were they talking face-to-face. 

“Th-that’s not it!” she called out at his words. “I mean, it would help if you looked less... frightening. Though... if something really, really embarrassing happened to you, that might already do the trick...” Hubert flinched as she snickered and suddenly sounded very nasty, devilish even: “Such as running against a closing door, or slipping on horse dung and falling...”

“That’s... _evil._ ” Hubert was dumbfounded by the malice in her imagination. Maybe some of the horror stories he had heard about her were actually truer than she let people believe. One should really not underestimate her.

A smirk stole its way onto his face. “I quite like that side of you.” he laughed, unexpectedly sincerely. She shyly laughed with him.

“But really, talking to you is not a problem.” she said, serious again. Then suddenly her voice darkened noticeably as she added: “It’s just that sometimes, I cannot turn my mind away from showing me only the dark figure who slaughtered all these people on the battlefield. I’m still... a little bit terrified of that.”

It sounded somewhat reproaching, towards him or herself Hubert could not tell, but regardless he did not at all know what to feel about that confession because yes, he _was_ that dark figure slaughtering people on the battlefield, and he would also still kill without remorse if he deemed it necessary. If she hated that, then why was she talking to him?

But he was given no time to dwell on this thought because she went on, as if she knew there was nothing further to say: “In any case, I respect that you always knew which decisions to make. You are strong, all of you... other than me, you never hesitated to move forward. So I am doing my best to respect you, not fear you!”

Again, he was not sure why she was telling him all of this, but her bluntness startled him, and in a pleasant way — though he immediately tensed up when he heard her call him strong. “I only follow Lady Edelgard.” he instinctively repeated a line which he’d said countless times over the course of his life. It carried a foul bitterness now. 

However, Bernadetta wasn’t deterred by it. “She never asked any of this from you. In the end, you did it by your own will.” she insisted.

_That isn’t true_ , Hubert thought, because being the heir of house Vestra was all which had brought him into her service. And whatever bond they might’ve developed, now she just felt lifetimes away, untouchable, unreachable even with thoughts. Once more he tried to find their connection, but he felt only his heart longing for something in the distance, something he felt he would never see again.

He quietly lost himself in his memories, memories of their childhood, their friendship, their battles, even though they seemed to him now as if they were somebody else’s. He forgot about Bernadetta, and she didn’t speak, either. Eventually, he found himself lying down again, with his eyes open and dry. But then suddenly, as he was staring at his hands half asleep, he heard her stand up, and when he realized she was leaving, it triggered a hint of panic.

“No, stay.” his voice escaped him before he could think, and hot shame seized him immediately when he heard the words that had left his mouth. Irretrievably they spread through the room. “No, I mean— go. I mean— do as you wish. It does not concern me.” he stuttered helplessly.

“Okay.” was all she said. She sat back down, and even though a tense feeling hung in the room for a couple of moments, it loosened surprisingly quickly, and Hubert lied there still burning a little with embarrassment, but somehow comfortable enough to endure. But now, he had to ask. 

“Why did you come?” 

“I couldn’t sleep.” she said immediately, but she knew that wasn’t the answer he wanted, so she went on quickly: “And I think I came here because... I told myself talking to you would prove I had overcome part of my fears. But then I realized that was only an excuse to talk to you.” There was a hint of laughter in her voice. “The truth is”, she then said very calmly, “There are some things about you that intrigue me, but you... You are more than unapproachable, so when I noticed you are also awake at night, I, um, you could say I took the chance to speak to you without having to, um, find a way to catch your attention.”

“I see.” Hubert replied. So she had wished to talk to him. But why? He could follow her words, but strangely, his mind felt increasingly unable to digest any of it, and could bring up no reaction other than indifference. Even the amusement from before had gone completely out of sight. But regardless of it all, knowing she was not moving away from the door calmed him, such that at least nothing worse than indifference could flare up. Once more, they were silent, and stayed silent until he dozed away.

The next day passed in a similar manner to the ones before. Waking up as soon as the sun rose, Hubert wished for another 3 hours of sleep knowing he wouldn’t get them. After a rush of emotion in the morning he stayed in his room not feeling much of anything, growing more indifferent by the hour, as if his mind was leaking until there was no driving force left. He knew he was wasting time doing nothing, neglecting necessary duties for reasons not at all justified, but for the death of him he could not push himself to care. It was an orientationless cycle, and he wondered how long it would last until all of his mind was sucked so dry it would crumble.

It didn’t take long.

“I apologize, but I can’t be long tonight” she said in the evening of that day. “I have a meeting with Edelgard early in the morning so I... want to try to sleep during the night.”

Those words were the ones to tear through his numbness. _Why is she telling me this?_ he asked himself, empty-mindedly staring at an uninteresting part of his room again. _She could’ve just not come._ Gradually, something was pushing him out of his trance, but instead of pulling him up, it stomped him further down. He was starting to feel annoyed, annoyed by her newly found self-confidence. What was she apologizing for? Did she think he was dependent on her now? She’d only been there twice, and now she felt obliged to talk to him, and sit in front of his door? He’d never begged her to do any of this. Suddenly, all the random things she’d said to him started to irritate him because he did not understand her intentions, and he wanted to push her away. But simultaneously, he did not know what would become of him if he disrupted the rhythm they had. It was all the last two days had been. He realized some dumb irrational part of him felt betrayed because she left today.

And on top of everything, he was starting to suspect that the only thing keeping his feelings from drowning him each one of these nights really had been her, and that subconsciously he had trusted her to hold the floods back. And it scared him, the thought that it had really been her presence that had allowed him to sleep, because that would be a humiliation he wouldn’t know how to handle.

Slowly, he was being pulled back to the hellfires of the first day. 

“Hubert?” she asked silently. “Do you still want to talk for a while?”

The question was like a hand on the rope that was dragging him towards the cliff. But it caused him to feel torn towards _her_ instead, and he wasn’t at all ready for that. As his thoughts started circling he told himself it was probably not even her in particular, that anyone could’ve taken her role and she had just been there with particular timing, or done something in particular, or _not_ done something in particular... But really, he just didn’t know what to believe anymore. All he knew was that he didn’t want to be dependent on anyone. He had to get away. He had always been alone. He could only ever be alone.

“Please go.” he said, and his voice was in ashes.


	2. Part 1, Chapter 2: Explosion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 2, where Hubert becomes what he would never allow others to become.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a warning: some explicit violence in this chapter. it’s 2-3 paragraphs and they can be skipped. it’s not in the main tags because it’ll (probably) be one of very few instances of it being this graphic.

After she had left, Hubert lied awake. His fears had come true — he could not find sleep. He was too confused and frustrated and it kept his brain working and restless until eventually, lying in his bed gave him physical pain and he pulled his body up to his feet in one aggressive motion. He could not stay inside any longer. His room was about to become a prison, some dungeon he would forever only associate with suffering. Its artificial, suffocating darkness made him sick. He needed some actual darkness, outside in the night, where no one would know where he was, and he could melt with the shadows.

He threw over his robes and hurried out, careful not to pass anyone on his way. Luckily for him, everyone seemed to be sleeping tonight, and it was so dark he could barely see where he was going. The sight of any face, even his own reflection, would’ve probably shot him the last miles to insanity, so he welcomed the blackness and engulfed in it, became it, surrendered his heart to it as he left the castle and made way for the city. 

He never came out here if he didn’t have to, but right now he yearned to leave those walls, shed his skin and become someone else, someone who was free of Hubert von Vestra’s image and obligations, who could wear his pain on his face because no one would recognize it in the darkness. The castle grounds bound him to the personality he had thought himself to be — pragmatic, ruthless, unshakably self-confident, always in control of the situation, and not affected by such obstructive things as emotions. But trying to reattach his mind to that image and pull himself back into that state had brought him nothing but frustration and insomnia. He knew now that it was pointless trying to suppress these uncontrollable feelings he was experiencing. He would have to accept he was feeling them, and deal with them differently somehow. Leaving that prison was the first step.

As he took a turn he caught a glimpse of a two-legged shadow which he believed to have already seen at the castle gate, but after he had passed it he didn’t waste another thought on it. The night was home to many dubious creatures. He was one of them, so why would he fear them? If this one wanted his attention, it would have to show itself.

His pace quickened but he didn’t fall into running, he just walked and walked until his thoughts felt somewhat less overbearing, and he could steadily detach himself from the contemptuous voice telling him he was weak. It felt good to be no one for a while. Right now, out here, he didn’t have to be anybody. And more and more he wished he could just become one with the night, and not think about who he was anymore. If Hubert von Vestra was gone, who would even miss him? Edelgard had Byleth to serve as her warrior and tactician, her emotional support and her source of motivation... What would they still need him for, anyway?

But as much as he wished for it, he knew an escape into the night would be pointless because as soon as the sun would rise, his anonymity would shatter, he would disintegrate, and wake up in that numb heavy body that was property of the Emperor, with a soul that he had also promised to her. He hadn’t even strayed far from the castle, as if he was tied to it and could not leave it out of his reach. He was chained to her by his name and by his heart. Increasingly, he wished to tear his chest open and pull that useless piece of flesh out of its cage so it could no longer hurt, and no longer make him this despicably weak.

He sensed someone behind him. A tad too close to be coincidental. In an instinct, he ducked and span around, and the shadow he caught sight of reacted with a swing aimed at his head. Surprised at its speed, Hubert could only dodge hastily by throwing himself forward to the ground, where he crashed onto his wrists and quickly grabbed the attacker’s feet to tear him down onto his back. As the whole length of his body fell and hit the concrete Hubert scrambled to his feet. He’d gotten careless.

“Hubert von Vestra.” He flinched at the sound of his name. It felt alien, as if it referred to someone else. _That’s not me_ , he almost wished to say. Then he realized the voice he’d heard didn’t belong to the one before his eyes. Behind him, there was another cloaked figure waiting to make their move.

“We’re lucky, it’s really him.” Now it was the man before him speaking, with a hoarse voice bathing in self-absorbed excitement. Meanwhile, Hubert tried to make sense of the situation. Why so close to the castle? What did they expect from this attack? It irritated him to no end that they acted as if they had just driven him into a corner. Then suddenly he was hit by the next, delicately groaned words: “I’ll take that fake Emperor’s bitch.” 

Somehow, this forcefully slammed him back into Hubert von Vestra’s body, and when the man charged at him instantly and a large dagger closely, _closely_ brushed past his chest, the anger at his insolence, those words and what they triggered in him began to rush through his body with the adrenaline. 

“I’ll slaughter you, you bastard! You deserve it, all of you!” he heard the man shout and his body tensed. Impulsive and hot his irrational rage flared up, and this time he couldn’t contain it. He didn’t even try. Something in him had snapped and he wanted nothing but to burst out, press everything out, his frustration, his despair, his sorrow. They didn’t belong to him, they needed to _go_ , and driven into a corner he transformed them into boiling hateful fury at the insolence of the man before his eyes, who dared to slander her, after everything she’d gone through. He’d show him the hell of an opponent he had chosen. Without a word he dashed forward and violently grabbed the man’s neck, squeezed it tightly in his grip, then threw him back so he crashed to the ground. His cape flew off and instantly, he was seized and held down by an invisible power. A sadistic smirk seized Hubert’s face. At least this still worked. This was still in his control. He kept his arm held out and tensed his fingers. Dark energy gathered around them. For the first time since the war he tapped into his reserves of pure dark strength, and suddenly his body tingled with a rush of mad euphoria. He had forgotten how this power felt, how massive it was, and his rage amplified it to a high he had never experienced. He unleashed it in a fire that engulfed his victim’s whole body, wrapped around it in a storm, and as he screamed shrill in pain the dark mage’s breath accelerated. 

It threw him back to the war, the intensity of battle, and the emotions in him stirred, as if about to break out. And he yearned so desperately for that release. The man before his eyes was combusting in a wheel of flames, but it was not enough. He needed an explosion, one that could trigger the blocked one inside of himself. He would make one...

He had the energy, and he had the control over it. All he needed was to manipulate it a bit differently. Concentrating, quickly in order not to prematurely lose the man to the fire, he took control of the wind around his victim’s head and forced air through his mouth and into his body, until the inner pressure became unsustainable and his lungs filled so tightly they could not expand any further. The man, now unable to breathe or scream, tore at his raw throat with a face of pure insanity. Then it happened very fast. His burning eyes rolled back, his mouth still gaping open as his lungs burst in his chest. His body convulsed, but continued to bloat up as it was ceaselessly pumped fuller until finally, finally, the pressure spiked and his upper body exploded in a wet crimson cloud.

Blood pressed out as it tore open, splashed out onto the concrete and over Hubert’s boots. The man still sat erect, head intact, held there by Hubert’s spell who watched as the fluids kept running out of the holes, and severed organs hung down the visible inside of the body. The scene stood still for a couple of moments, frozen in motion. Hubert breathed heavily in delirious relief.

The rush of power was gone and he suddenly became aware of how worn out he was, both due to his lack of nutrition and sleep, as well as the high level of concentration he’d had to sustain for his spell. He felt dizzy, and before he could notice his arm dropped down and the corpse dropped with it, falling heavy on its face like a wet sack of clothes. Hubert’s legs began to tremble and he took a knee, supporting himself on the ground with his left hand. He just needed a moment. 

“Hubert!!” he thought he heard someone call him, and simultaneously he could make out footsteps behind him, drawing closer to where he was. He raised his eyes. Extremely wearily his blurry vision cleared, and only when it was sharp he became aware of the frightening mess he had created around him. The whole length of the alley was sprinkled in blood, and he himself kneeled in an expanding pool of it, the corpse of the man he’d killed floating face down at his feet. It felt surreal. He alone had caused all of this.

The steps came running up and he could hear hurried breaths, her breaths, as they finally reached him. She put a hand on his arm, then flinched back immediately when she caught sight of the blood-drenched front side of his body. A short squeak cut through the air, but she didn’t flinch back, and as she moved to his front quickly, he saw her face for the first time. It was neither shocked nor disgusted, only worried. Worried about him. For a split second she stared at him, and the pool of blood he sat in, and his red-dyed clothes, trying to find how best to act. That’s when Hubert started to realize that there really was a lot, a lot of blood, and he was soaked in it, so it was safe to assume that significant amounts of it were his. Even though not even one drop of it was. He was bathing in blood, but he didn’t even have a scratch. That thought suddenly made him jolt and he felt a strange stirring feeling in his chest. 

He remembered Bernadetta and saw she still stood there helpless, unable to decide which question to ask first. “It’s not mine.” Hubert managed to say before she could fall into panic. “I’m not injured.” he then added as if to reemphasize it for himself. Immediately, he saw relief calm her expression. Then, when she took a step back, her foot hit the corpse’s head behind her. She flinched in surprise as if she had forgotten about it.

“An assassin?” she asked as she looked down over her shoulder. He nodded and she turned around. “You burnt him.” she stated, more to herself. Then without reserve she squatted down and pulled the head to the side by its hair to view its red face. _The war has truly left its marks_ , Hubert thought. It had desensitized even her who years ago would’ve ran at the mere mention of a corpse.

While she examined him he raised his eyes to look past her into the darkness and, as if by chance, suddenly caught glimpse of a dark figure in the back of the alley. At first he froze, but when he looked more closely he saw a face and it immediately caught him in eye contact... Intense eye contact that forced a memory to his mind, once again one of battle, where he had seen that very murderous stare in the distance of their own lines many times. But never had he felt it so intensely on him.

If it was who he thought it was, he wouldn’t be surprised to find him out in the night, but still he couldn’t help but wonder... had _he_ followed him out here, too? And had he... observed him? It would explain the glare he was sending out now, given his fascination with death. _Should I be worried_ , Hubert asked himself sardonically. After all, even though the Death Knight fought on Edelgard’s side, everyone was still advised not to carelessly approach him. Well, if there was anything he wanted, be it a talk or a fight, he’d have to be more explicit.

“I feel like I might have seen him before, but he is too defaced to say for certain...” Bernadetta in front of him murmured and diverted his attention. Hubert watched as she kept staring at his features, until her eyes strayed to the chest bathing in blood, and she realized that the whole lake around them had to stem from there. Now hesitating a little, she lightly pushed up his shoulder with one hand. Hubert could not make out what exactly, or rather how much she was seeing, but as her eyes stayed fixed on it, he witnessed the side of her face slowly darken in disbelief. Silently, she kept holding his shoulder and didn’t budge, didn’t seem to breathe until at once, she glanced back at him. Her lip was trembling. Her expression was suddenly so derailed, so uncanny it broke his stomach. After a long, long moment of time standing still, she dragged her eyes up, until they met his.

“Why?” she whispered.

“He got on my nerves”, Hubert uttered sourly under his breath, and realized what he had said only after he’d said it. Immediately, he wanted to take his words back because they were wrong, so so wrong, but the way she now looked at him with eyes of cold crystal made clear they had hit her, and she wouldn’t forget them. If they had ever known something of each other, she had backed away from him now, to another realm where just like Edelgard, he could not see her anymore.

“I have a meeting to get to.” her voice dried up more with each word. With crunched lips she turned around and walked away without concealing her haste. Her red shoes left visible footprints on the street. Hubert was left alone, sinking in regret.

Almost immediately after, guards from the castle approached the scene. Hubert stood up and walked past them before they could reach it. He had no energy left for getting caught up in more commotion. He informed the soldiers scarcely as he passed by — they’d be able to verify his words by themselves. And hopefully, they’d clean up before more people saw it. He didn’t want any more questions to be asked. Following Bernadetta’s footprints, he hurried back to the castle, before anyone could try and come up to talk to him. He made way for his rooms, passing people by without seeing them, and without a moment of calm, as to not let his thoughts catch up with him, he changed out of his bloody clothes, fell into his bed, and let his bodily exhaustion drag him into sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> because somehow, i feel the need to apologize for the trope, let me explain why: that cruelty is a part of him, and i believe there is also something in him that could conflict with it. he just requires something to connect the two, like putting two wires together, and that's what’s happened. so i guess you could call bernie at this point of the story a catalyst, she kicks off a transformation that might’ve otherwise stayed unactivated. so his outbreak was important!


	3. Part 1, Chapter 3: Doubt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 3, where Hubert has a couple of (more or less) fateful encounters.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> look forward to a bit of a mood shift halfway, it’s gonna be not all pain from there!

The next morning, though it was almost still night because in the end, he had not been able to sleep for longer than 4 hours, he left his room and wandered aimlessly around the halls. The events of the last day were still stuck in his head, and he tried to drown his thoughts about them in the silence until he came close to the library where he noticed a burning light. To confirm a suspicion he spied around the corner, but to his surprise he couldn’t spot anyone at the tables. Had someone left the light on by accident? He went in and after a moment of hesitation, he sat down. He had always liked the unbothered tranquility of the room, the warm light, the books, the wooden shelves. Maybe it was exactly what he needed right now. Calmly, he soaked up the atmosphere and enjoyed not thinking too hard for a while. Then he heard a rustling noise and a book was put down on the other end of the table. He looked up and directly met her eyes. 

He froze, they both froze, and he heard a thin chopped off breath. She could not tear her eyes away fast enough from his and they locked for a breathless moment, until steadily angry disgust spread on her face. She sat down abruptly, and didn’t deign to look at him again.

They both sat in silence, her on the back left corner of the table, and him almost all the way to the front right. Hubert sensed her frustration knowing he had caused it, and it troubled him. What exactly was she frustrated about? Was it just shock? Disgust? Bad memories? He recalled the unforgiving look she had hit him with. It had reached deeper than just disgust. No, he’d gotten the feeling she was somehow disappointed in him, and that stirred him in a strange, highly uncomfortable way. He stared at the tabletop as not a single sound filled the air, and the trouble in him foamed.

“Back then” the words suddenly escaped him and he cursed his mental instability. 

Bernadetta said nothing, didn’t even look at him, but he saw her deprecating face. He didn’t know why, but it pierced him and again, he was fueled in his need to say something, defend himself, though he did not understand why. He never defended himself. He did what had to be done, his assessments were clear and logical, and his actions necessary. There was no need to justify them, but looking at the woman in front of him he could feel her reclusiveness, which she made very clear was due to him being there. He sensed her silent disgust, her disapproval. And he felt like a fish on dry ground.

“He was out to kill me.” he squeezed out and it felt like flapping on the ground without orientation, unable to do anything but hope someone would pick him up and throw him back into the water. He felt pathetic.

She looked up. She seemed to consider whether or not to say something. Then she spoke and her voice was quiet and thin.

“But why, Hubert. Why so cruel.”

He asked himself that question. He could find no answer other than “because he’d felt like it”. Suddenly, he felt very wrong, that something was fundamentally wrong with him, as if he had broken a huge taboo. But then his pragmatic side pushed forward. What did it matter? The guy was dead. He would’ve attacked him and become a risk to the Emperor, a risk to everyone, while they were devoting their very lives to trying to make peace. They were still at war. It was necessary. Clinging to that one last thought before it faded, he quickly said:

“I cannot allow myself such luxuries as scruples.” He tried to look as heartless and unapologetic as he could, but to his distaste, his voice told a different story.

Bernadetta did not look away. Silently but unwaveringly, she held eye contact.

_Why would you lie_ , it said. _I saw it._

Hubert did not know why he was lying. But maybe if both of them chose to believe it, it would be true in some way. However, she was clearly not playing under these rules.

“I would not call a conscience a luxury.” she responded quietly, and the touch of contempt in her voice was enough to make it cutting. “It’s human.” 

That hit. She’d really just said that to his face, hadn’t she? That it made him inhuman. And she really felt that way, he could see it in the eyes she now turned away, and chose to fix on some indefinite point on the wall instead of him. And to make it worse, a realization crept up his chest that he didn’t have the power to deny anymore. When she had told him she was scared of him it had been because of his lack of remorse, the pure ruthlessness with which he cut through to their goal. But now, he was different. He not only killed without scruples. No, for the first time, he had drawn pleasure from it.

He looked away, too, down onto his hands, and noticed he was shaking a little bit. Observing himself having that strong of a physical reaction to something he did not fully comprehend threw him off far, and triggered a growing feeling of unrest that would best be described as flight instinct. 

“So _this_... this, this is how you think of me.” he uttered unusually stirred up, so quietly he wasn’t even sure his words could reach her, and then he stood up and went, went out of that room, away from her, away from every voice that talked about things he didn’t want to talk or think about. If there was a response as he walked out, he didn’t hear it.

In his room, he found himself sitting on his bed, but his mind was still stuck in midst of their conversation. Why was Bernadetta so invested in what he’d done? She hadn’t even been there when it happened. In his frustration he grew annoyed again. Why did she suddenly have to get involved in everything? And why had she even been there, had she not gone to sleep?

And why did her reaction stir him like this, anyway. They had never talked much face-to-face to begin with. But... when she’d come up to him, she had asked about his wound first. Her face had been worried, at least he had perceived it that way... Though if she ever did worry about him, she certainly wasn’t anymore now that he’d had to convince her how cold-hearted he really was.

Why had he even acted that way again? For a moment, he had damn near stood on the edge to a full-on apology... but then, he had suddenly _feared_ his conscience, if only for a moment it had made him doubt a large part of himself, and he’d had to push it away. Who was she, anyway? His last judgement? She had killed countless people herself, certainly a lot of them unnecessarily, too! Hubert would not let that woman who barely even knew anything of him pretend she understood what he had or didn’t have to do. If she didn’t want to talk to him, that was fine. His sinister presence had always driven her away, anyway. Though in there, she had not seemed intimidated, or even affected by it at all...

It didn’t make any sense. As much as he tried, he could not understand her, and also didn’t want to bother trying anymore. It was true that he had lost his temper... but really, the consequences weren’t that tragic. By now, the mess had already been cleaned up. The dead didn’t feel anymore, so what was there to think further about? She would soon move on from it, too. But even though Hubert felt satisfied with that conclusion, it didn’t manage to brighten his mood. The next hours, he did nothing but loaf around the castle, not knowing at all what to do with, or think of himself.

———

It was late afternoon when he found himself sitting in a place he would’ve never even thought of visiting, not even were he to feel bored to death. But in an unexpected turn of events he had been dragged into the old bar near the castle, where only people from the castle ever went to to spend their evenings after they were released from their duties for the day. There had always been guards lingering close to it who observed whether anyone suspicious was approaching, and after yesterday, they had multiplied, which had driven Hubert to walk past there to observe, only observe — but unfortunately, he had moved too close to the entrance and unfortunately, he had been spotted by someone, and now he was sitting at a table across from that someone, and had somehow ended up informing him about yesterday’s events. 

“No, you did what you had to do, I am sure.” Ferdinand said, twirling his glass in his hand. “I would have done the same, though no, actually I wouldn’t have. I know not to make my opponents suffer unnecessarily, even when they’re my enemies, in that case I have a sense of honor, I think—”

“Shut up, Ferdinand, this has nothing to do with honor.” Hubert etched aggressively. This man was already insufferable when he was sober, and one drink was enough to further loosen his tongue — not in the sense that he talked more, but rather that he no longer paid as much attention to _how_ he was saying things. Not that the two of them often took drinks together — Ferdinand had never been able to convince Hubert to set foot into the bar (a useless waste of his, and therefore Edelgard’s time), but over the years the two of them had nevertheless spent a fair amount of time together at the academy, then as comrades in battle, and ultimately as the Emperor’s highest confidants; and they had ended up forming a bond that, if one were to ask, they might reluctantly title “friendship”, because “heated rivalry with occasional thoughtful conversation and a high level of mutual understanding and respect” would make it sound too personal.

Thus, Ferdinand only leaned back at the harshness of Hubert’s words. “Wow.” he said, though not really offended. “Whatever I did to deserve that.”

Hubert shrugged. He would not apologize for putting an end to that unbearable brainless chatter. 

“Look, Hubert.” Ferdinand started again, courageously ignoring the murderous stare he was subjected to (though he was a little bit intimidated). “I think I know what is troubling you, no, I think I _really_ know”, he insisted as Hubert tried to intercept him. “So don’t even try to give me an excuse you wouldn’t believe yourself. Either you can look at me and tell me in full honesty that Edelgard is not the reason, or you spare me your lies.”

“I...” Hubert, who was never at a loss of words, was at a loss of words at this insolence. He truly hated the state he was in lately, impulsive and confused and weak, and as if that wasn’t enough, it was plainly visible to everyone, and they exploited it. Especially Ferdinand, who somehow seemed to have found his empathetic side today, or just enjoyed making fun of him. The worst thing about all of this was he still did not know how to go back to his former self, and consequently everyone kept thinking they had to pity him. 

To avoid having to answer he continued to look away, into the shop, where suddenly his attention was once again caught by a man sitting alone at a table on the opposite side. He was cloaked in black, but Hubert recognized the long blonde hair falling around his face immediately. Jeritza von Hrym. For a moment Hubert was distracted, when he suddenly became aware that the man was staring at him, with the same unreadable glare he had felt on him back then in the alley. So it really had been him... Unsure what to make of this discovery, he broke eye contact deliberately and then remembered where he was, and that he still hadn’t given a reply.

“There is nothing with me and Edelgard. I am her right hand, so obviously I care about her and her safety. That’s all.” He didn’t notice how empty the words sounded. Instead, he remembered how back at the academy, Ferdinand had already once tried to paint him a victim of unrequited love. It annoyed him. “Why do you feel the pressing need to talk about love, anyway”, he blurted out. “Is there something I should know?”

Ferdinand gave him a long look. “Nobody said anything about love just now. Well, except for you. But I’ll leave it at that.” He lowered his eyes, then turned them to the window, then to his cup, which he picked up and emptied.

Once more, Hubert felt the need to get out. Human company really grew insufferable quickly, always judging and pitying, and Ferdinand in particular had the potential to become a special kind of unbearable. Before he could think twice, he stood up and left without another word.

“Wait, where are you going? Hubert, hey, Hubert! There’s nothing shameful about it!” he heard the other man shout behind him as he passed the door, but he ignored it. He would go back to the castle, and not take night strolls anymore, and maybe he wouldn’t get caught in as much trouble.

But that genius plan instantly melted back into air when he caught sight of the armored man who’d taken off his coat and placed himself directly next to the door, pinning him down with his eyes immediately when he stepped out. Hubert halted for a moment, considering whether or not to trouble himself with this, but he quickly made a decision and stepped over to Jeritza with a menacing glare. He was not in the mood for being ridiculed anymore, and this man’s way too conspicuously cryptic behavior was dangerously straining his nerves.

“I saw you yesterday. Why did you follow me?” he asked without a greeting. He had rarely said anything to that man which wasn’t an order, but that would not stop him now.

“I was there merely by coincidence.” the response came in a voice so serious it was taunting.

A snort left Hubert’s nose and he crossed his arms. “So the fact that I see you standing here in that very indiscrete spot is also a coincidence?”

“It is a coincidence.” Jeritza insisted, not thrown off in the least by his sarcasm. 

“You don’t say.” was all Hubert said, throwing him a sharp glance. His eyes got stuck as he saw a hint of amusement flash over the blonde man’s face. Was he mocking him? A few moments passed where they stared at each other and Hubert felt the need to say something else, but he couldn’t think of a single thing so he just turned around and walked away. And just as he’d expected, he heard Jeritza’s hoarse voice call him back.

“Wait!” he shouted, and Hubert stopped and scoffed. Coincidence, his ass.

“What?” he responded very slowly, and turned only his head to show a complacent smile. 

Jeritza, again, did not react to his provocation, just fixed him with his eyes. “Would you teach me how you killed that man?” he asked.

Hubert froze on the spot. Then he span around and looked at him as if he was being messed with. “ _Why_.” his voice was dripping with skepticism. 

“...You have peaked my interest.” was all Jeritza said.

“Why.” Hubert repeated uncooperatively, crossing his arms.

“I am not sure.” The stare grew cutting. “You tell me... What is causing that storm in your eyes?”

“I don’t believe that’s any of your concern.” Hubert said, irritated to no end by this groundless disrespect. And while he considered whether to keep withstanding his stare or just leave, he was struck by a stubborn impulse to punch back and asked somewhat snappily: “And you? Don’t you have something uncontrollable hidden inside you?”

“...I do.” Jeritza said after a moment of silence. “And he’s unusually quiet. I think he’s observing you.”

For a couple of seconds, neither of them said a word while Hubert tried to read something, anything in his expression, but once again failed miserably.

“I am serious about my request.” Again, it was Jeritza who resumed the conversation. “I prefer the sword or the lance, it’s more...” He looked down at his hand and stretched out his fingers. “... _personal._ Still, I have found that some fields of magic can prove quite helpful in combat. As you would certainly know.” Again, Hubert thought he could hear a hint of mockery.

He understood Jeritza was still on a mission to hunt down Those Who Slither in the Dark, and had only returned temporarily. What he didn’t understand was: He had seen him fight. He was unstoppable already with both physical weapons and magic. There was really nothing fundamental he would be able to teach him, so why did he insist on it? Was it really just his cruelty that had caught his attention? What else was there that he could not see?

“What I did is unnecessarily gruesome.” he finally responded, having decided to just be honest.

“But highly effective.” Jeritza’s lips formed something that could be interpreted as a smile. “To be honest”, he then said, “I do not need it to defeat my enemies, but I would like to... experience it. If you would allow me that pleasure. I have never seen anything like it, not even amongst our enemies. It fascinated me.”

_Pleasure, huh,_ Hubert thought.The audacity to say that out loud made him sick.

_Not even amongst our enemies._ That made him even sicker. But that one side hidden in him, the one that had fed on its victim’s agony, was intrigued and disgustingly appalled by this man’s morbidity.

In another impulse, he drew close and looked him directly in the eyes, with that expression of his that was made to intimidate, if not put to flight. Of course, Jeritza was unaffected. He glared back with his blank face, and showed no reaction but the hint of a smile around his lips. As much as Hubert tried, he still could not read him, and it annoyed him. He took a long taxing look before he finally made another decision, broke away and turned around slowly. He spoke as he walked off: “Meet me later tonight. At the gate.” 

Maybe some new company would bring excitement to this pure self-lament of a life.

“I was right to take interest in you”, he thought he heard Jeritza say reminiscently behind him as he left, but he did not look back. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> each of the ships is going to play out differently. the main reason i am throwing three ships into this fic is that i believe each of them has the potential to develop a deeper connection and honestly, it’s just really fun to write! 
> 
> so ferdibert is a huge (and overall great) ship i don’t need to talk about, but about hubert and jeritza: while the game doesn’t offer a whole lot of content about them, they are two characters that i feel would really be able to connect, mostly because they both know a prominent “dark” and a more hidden, but not necessarily less strong “light” side within themselves. they are both observers, but also ready to take action according to their own will, both insanely powerful, but fight in the shadows. it’s hard for me to imagine that they never took interest in each other.  
> in any case, if they were to interact, i’d imagine tension between them, whatever type of tension that might be. so the lack of dialogues or ship dynamics is not gonna stop me from creating it!!


	4. Part 1, Chapter 4: Small Steps (Towards Somewhere)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 4, where Hubert is pushed against a wall.

Long past midnight, but far enough from dusk, he really did go out to the gate. He was wearing black training clothes and a cloak to hide them, and passed swiftly through the halls and then outside. He was accompanied by a strange feeling of haste hovering distantly above his head, but as much as it annoyed him, he was also at a point where he had chosen to embrace the negativity, accept that he had regrets now, and was hugging his pain with a self-loathing smile. So what was one arbitrary nuisance more to add to the pod?

Still, as much as he tried, he couldn’t help but be frustrated at the fact that he was still in such a confused state, so detached from reality that the mere thought of returning to normal life felt like he’d have to traverse to another universe. He wouldn’t even know where to start and he was tired, tired of trying to find a way back to somewhere he couldn’t recall anymore. What was he even doing? What was he feeling? Where did he want to go? _What_ did he want? He did not know which direction to push in, so he decided to just take what came to him — and tonight, apparently, that was meeting Jeritza for training, however surreal that felt.

Well, he had lived through stranger moments. He’d make the best of it.

As soon as the outer gate came into sight, he spotted a cloaked figure leaning against the wall next to it, noticeably close to the two guards who seemed to know who he was, and consequently tried very hard not to pay attention to him. Hubert wasn’t sure if he’d really expected that unapproachable lone wolf to show up, and he was still unsure about the goal he was pursuing, but in any case, Jeritza didn’t seem like a man who would do anything, especially plaguing himself with other people’s company, just to “see what would happen”. No, he seemed more like someone who, if he chose to spend his free time with you, it was safe to assume he had ulterior, self-serving motives. Which was fine with Hubert, really, because he was the same. At least most of the time. He rarely actively tried to connect with others if it wasn’t necessary for Edelgard’s ambitions. No, he drove them away instead, the cynical thought crossed him, and as to be expected Bernadetta’s reproaching face slipped back into his mind so he pulled his thoughts away violently to somewhere else, and quickened his pace towards the gate. Heavens, he could not wait to _move_ , and _force_ these nuisances out of his head. Suddenly, he was brimming with an excited aggression that he could not wait to discharge in combat.

Because the truth was, he had no intention of teaching Jeritza anything, at least not tonight. He would make a deal with him. As he approached the outer wall the figure showed no sign of noticing him, and didn’t move at all. Walking up to him, Hubert could only make out the eyes that were fixing him like a target to eliminate. He stopped right in front of the man, deliberately a bit too close for comfort, and looked down on him. They studied each other’s faces for a couple of seconds, until Jeritza seemed to have found something in his. 

“You want to fight me.” he stated.

“Indeed.” Hubert confirmed grimly. “I want to fight.”

There was a pause.

“When will you teach me?” Jeritza then asked.

“Later.” Hubert replied with a look that left no room for compromise. “After _you_ teach me how to make use of a sword.”

The blonde man detached his back from the wall and at once his presence multiplied like a blast of light, which Hubert had to command himself not to flinch away from. 

“Understood.” Jeritza said, in full silent control of everything. It pissed Hubert off as much as it irritatingly appealed to him. “But I won’t account for any... casualties.”

“I return that warning.” Hubert growled, maybe a bit overconfident for someone who over the course of his entire life had held a sword only when Byleth or Petra had forced it into his hands. They went to the empty training grounds, where he fetched two practice swords and flung one over to his opponent. He could not wait to confront him in combat.

Though, of course, he was painfully outmatched. Really, he couldn’t even be called an opponent, he was more of a big toothless ferret trying to encircle a snake. While he had practiced with different weapons before, he had rarely ever used them in real combat, so his rusty sword-fighting memories from his time at the academy sufficed only for at least not having to be taught how to wield it, not for even remotely holding his own against the raw natural disaster Jeritza was.

And as to be expected, the blonde man turned out to be less of a teacher than a sparring partner. Hubert learned by watching and adapting to his movements, and trying different approaches to see how he would react. Though there also were a few times where Jeritza eyed his stance and criticized it, and demonstrated movements for him to imitate. As some time passed, Hubert was confirmed in his initial assumption that he would never feel a deeper connection to this weapon, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t ambitious to make that skill his own. He’d always fancied the idea of minimizing his blind spots in combat, and right now, his lack of ability when it came to physical weapons could be called one of his most noticeable shortcomings. So if he had time now, he might as well use it efficiently.

Even though sword fighting wasn’t intuitive, he was intelligent, and quick to pick up and make use of techniques. As they tried and repeated many different moves, their strikes grew faster. Jeritza’s blunt sword hit Hubert nearly everywhere, and his fierce strikes only slowed down mere moments before the hit as to not inflict serious injury. It seemed he had to spend significant effort to hold up his self-restraint to something non-lethal for his opponent. Was it because he felt deprived of battle after returning to the castle lately? Or could he not help but fight this way? Either way, Hubert welcomed that fierceness, and that uncertainty of whether or not he might really get hurt. It fueled his adrenaline and kept unnecessary thoughts away.

They paused a couple of times in between, to rest their limbs and clear their minds. There was no need for conversation. After quite some time had passed and they were deep into the night, approaching the morning, they mutually decided to take their last rest. There was no defined hierarchy or relationship between them, but they had gradually reached some otherworldly realm on which to handle each other, without questioning, without reserve, without regrets.

“You are not one of many words... I like that.” Jeritza suddenly broke the silence, his voice dripping with an ambiguousness Hubert did not know what to make of.

“I preferred _your_ company while you, too, were quiet and trying to kill me.” he replied skeptically.

“I was never seeking to _kill_ you.” Jeritza said in amusement.

“Is that really so?” he was questioned with a snort.

“Hmm... _he_ might've been.” Jeritza considered delicately, tearing at his lip.

“I suppose you are referring to the Death Knight?” Hubert asked as he went back into position. 

Jeritza did not answer at first, only stare again. “He does not know what to make of you.” he then concluded.

“Well, at this moment, he should focus on defending against me.” Hubert replied, unusually energetic, and dashed forward to attack.

Normally, he would’ve never consented to this, to battles he knew he lacked the skills for, and knew he would be humiliated within a matter of instants. But it felt good somehow, to throw that shell off, not think too much about these things, and just swing a sword through the darkness at an opponent, however superior he was. It was soothing, almost healing, and he desperately needed any little bit of that he could get.

It was dusk when their last sparring match ended, with a hand around Hubert’s right wrist, and a sword tip in his face. He’d dropped his weapon, and his muscles were so exhausted he wasn’t sure he could even pick it back up. 

“You have much to learn.” This time he was 109% certain Jeritza was mocking him. Though simultaneously he also still couldn’t shake the ever-present feeling that he was just mere scraps of self-control away from certain death.

“Then you have much to teach.” he countered, completely out of breath. Jeritza smirked and said nothing. He retreated from him a bit too reluctantly, took both their swords and vanished in the shadow of the rising sun.

Hubert was left panting, hurting all over, but with a strange calm of mind. Whatever that experience made him feel, it was not regret. Suddenly he understood why so many students back then had thrown themselves at every opportunity for training. It distracted the mind from complicated thoughts, and replaced them with the satisfaction of improvement, or the determination to keep fighting and not to fall behind. He would need this again... but first, he needed some rest.

———

Later in the afternoon, he found himself roaming the castle grounds again. It had become a habit of his, moving swiftly as to evoke the illusion he had somewhere specific to get to, observing the people and animals he passed by following the flows of their lives. It kept in his mind that he was not dead, still functioning, if only passively. 

After the physical training of this morning, he could feel the muscles in his arms and legs ache as he took the stairs into the main halls of the castle, but he welcomed it, and made sure not to slow down his movements. He was so immersed in his thoughts that he only noticed the two women standing next to a corridor on the left when he’d almost reached them. He froze in place immediately and almost threw himself behind a pillar.

He glanced over to them. There she was, she was really there, in her Emperor’s dress, hair put up in the usual manner, just a little bit messier than usual — and Hubert saw why as the woman with her put one hand on her head, playfully tapped against one of the horns, then took one of the strands falling around her face and twirled it gently around her fingers. He felt a pierce in his heart. But at the same time he was struck with a strange kind of wonder; he was not used to seeing them so intimate, so affectionate, so immersed in each other. Their relationship had developed mostly hidden from everyone’s eyes, but now that they were not being subtle anymore and Hubert was looking at them consciously, their feelings for each other were shining so loudly he suddenly couldn’t imagine either of them by themselves anymore. 

Edelgard’s face, no, her whole presence seemed so free, so detached from her burdens, that it made Hubert’s heart ache in relief along with his sadness. And as he continued to observe them he was flooded more and more with understanding. He and her could’ve never ended up that way. But even though he knew and he felt happy for her, it still hurt.

“Hubert?” a startled voice brushed his ear from afar, and as his body jolted he heard steps drawing closer. Steps he recognized.

“Ferdinand.” he gulped out, and in that moment saying his name somehow felt very intimate. But he regained his composure quickly and eyed him with suspicion. _What business brings you here?_ his face asked.

“I have a question for Her Majesty...” Ferdinand said, scratching his head, and Hubert’s mind shifted when he remembered where he stood. His eyes darted into the corridor, but the two of them had already gone.

“She is occupied right now.” he said in reply, trying his best to sound neutral.

“Is that so?” Ferdinand asked, shrugged and said: “Well, then it cannot be helped. It is late already, I might as well return tomorrow.”

He was about to leave, but suddenly he stopped short and turned around again. But instead of uttering whatever thought had crossed his mind, he began to shift his weight from one leg to the other, appearing strangely nervous, a change Hubert could not make sense of. Consequently, his eyes rested on the younger man questioningly for a moment, who under his stare seemed to grow even more restless, even though he didn’t explicitly show it. Finally after a couple of confusing seconds, he seemed to take a heart and looked up at him to ask: “Say, wouldn’t you come meet me at the bar again tonight, Hubert?”

Hubert had not expected anything, but he had especially not expected that. “Why? Is there something you want to talk to me about?” he encountered, because why else would Ferdinand want his unpleasant company? Again?

“I am sure we will find matters to talk about.” Ferdinand replied. Hubert did not overhear the mild urge in his voice, even though he could not discern what it meant. It sounded almost stubborn.

“My evening is free, so if you were to invite me, I suppose I would have no choice but to accept.” he resigned with a sigh, somehow unable to deny him his wish. He justified it for himself by recalling that he had no other plans, anyway, and that some human company (that was not Jeritza beating him up with a practice sword) might make him feel like a person again.

“Though I would prefer talking over a cup of coffee.” he added, not overly thrilled with the prospect of returning to the gloom-invoking ambience of that place, not to mention its stench of alcohol.

“Is it not a bit late for coffee?” a gleam of mockery broke into Ferdinand’s eyes.

“I suppose it is.” Hubert admitted in mild regret.

“Then let us go.” Ferdinand said and turned around, but even though his voice was firm, Hubert could still make out a faint hint of nervosity. “After you.” he said and held his arm out for him to pass by. Hubert followed, suddenly caught by a mild, highly irritating nervousness as well.

On the way, Ferdinand talked to him about current situations of the Empire that he had been out of touch with, about shifts in power and the fight against Those Who Slither in the Dark. Supposedly, some of their leaders had gone into hiding, and were rumored to gather allies who held grudges against the Emperor. This was the reason for Jeritza’s return, who was investigating the possible establishment of a structured group of rebels.

It felt good to Hubert to regain a general view of their circumstances after he had felt detached from them for what felt like an eternity. Even though it had only been a few days, life was progressing, and hearing about it made him feel more like a part of it.

In any case, the appearance of a rebellious movement would explain the attack on him. The ones he’d met had probably been acting on their own behalf, waiting in front of the gate until someone came out. If the rumors were true, they’d have to fear more of that from now on. So no night strolls anymore, not even for those who could defend themselves...

“I hate it.” Ferdinand said out of nowhere after they had sat in silence for a while, each hanging after their own thoughts. Hubert looked up at him. “I hate that the war is not over.”

“It never will be.” Hubert said. “Not for us.”

“Not for us...” Ferdinand echoed, shook his head and stared through the table. The words seemed to evoke more in him than they had meant to Hubert when he had said them.

“I was so eager to fight.” Ferdinand reminisced. “I thought it would make my destiny. Make me a true noble. Something honorable. Maybe a hero, even.” A disgusted cut of a breath left his teeth. 

“Nobility and honor and heroism are children’s tales.” Hubert commented grimly. “Lady Edelgard does not believe in them, she just fights... That is why I want to see the future she creates.”

“I suppose less true statements have been made.” Ferdinand, to his surprise, did not object. Instead, he stared into his glass, as if he was attempting to transform his whiskey into something harder. Something in his mind seemed to severely distress him. “All my talk of ‘honor’ was but a mass murderer patting himself on the back.” he finally mumbled silently.

Hubert had never seen him like that. So hateful, so... embittered. He had always assumed Ferdinand was proud of the path he had taken, and only cared about making the best of his situation. He had been wrong, apparently.

“Back then, how did you find the strength to keep fighting?” he suddenly felt the urge to ask the question that had been lurking in his head since sometime during their conversation.

“I did seek comfort in other people after battle.” Ferdinand admitted after a moment of silence. “Just as many others did. Honestly, it may be the only reason thanks to which I remained able to feel alive.”

Hubert lifted a brow. Seeking distraction in bodily pleasures was not what he would have guessed, but reflecting on it now, it also didn’t feel odd. For the first time, he consciously took a sip from his drink, and had to muster all his self-control in order not to cough. He had never been fond of liquor. “Am I familiar with any names?” he asked.

“Maybe a few. Older knights, mostly. Some of them... not here anymore.” was the answer, and it was obvious that these memories were nothing Ferdinand wanted to recall. “So, what about you?” he asked instead, with a bit of a more lighthearted tone.

“What _about_ me?” Hubert encountered.

“Come on, you can’t tell me you- you...” Ferdinand came to a realization and stopped himself. “You didn’t...” he whispered silently as if he was frustrated at himself, and lowered his head into his glass. 

Hubert did not embarrass himself by asking what he was talking about. Ferdinand was really bad at being discrete. 

They didn’t speak for a while.

“So you always waited for her, huh?” Ferdinand eventually said into the room between two sips from his drink, again more to himself than anything. 

“There was never a necessity for anything else” Hubert muttered, and with that everything was said from his view.

Again, Ferdinand said nothing, just stared at him. Quite penetratingly, in fact, as if he had forgotten halfway what he was doing and was now frozen in his thoughts. Hubert asked himself why everyone seemed to feel inclined to stare at him so much lately. He was used to things being the other way round, where he was the one observing and evaluating. There had been times where people had feared his judgement, and never dared to look at him for long, not to mention stare at him shamelessly like that. After all, they would’ve risked catching his attention. Was that a thing of the past now? Had he become the strange one people looked at? Though if he thought about it Ferdinand had always been an exception. From the first day that man had talked to him and challenged him with a self-confidence so unconditional — and, in his eyes, unfounded — that it had blown him out of the sky each time he’d opened his self-righteous mouth. 

“Have another drink, you need it.” Ferdinand now continued that tradition and signaled the waiter.

“I haven’t even finished this one.”

“Drink quickly then” was the only response he got. When he still didn’t touch his glass Ferdinand bent over and pushed it across the table into his hand. “Come on.” he sighed as he took another sip from his. “You’re not here with Edelgard or because of Edelgard, you’re here with me.”

Another statement that blew the lights out in his head. Ferdinand really was on some sort of high today. “And what is that supposed to mean?” Hubert did not even have the energy to debate him.

“Whatever you want it to” Ferdinand said nonchalantly, and finished his glass in one shot as the waiter brought the next one.

“ _Are_ you...” Hubert started out, but cut off immediately. Never mind, he thought, and didn’t finish the sentence. Yes, yes he totally was. 

“Anyway, stop being so glum.” Ferdinand’s fingers tapped against his. “You have a life separate from her, don’t you?”

That shifted Hubert’s mood. What “separate” life was he referring to, exactly? His childhood, work, free time had always been tied to Edelgard von Hresvelg solely by being born the heir of house Vestra, and that was without even considering his personal feelings. There had never been the opportunity for a life that solely belonged to him.

Except that this was a lie he had been telling himself. Edelgard was not one who would’ve kept him chained to her service because of his name. He could have found and pursued another path of his own, if he had so desired. But he had not. He realized that Ferdinand, the one he’d always perceived to be too stuck in his own principles and too hung up on his heritage, had actually made his own destiny by choosing to take her side — while he had done nothing but refuse every chance at a life separate from her.

The truth was, _he_ was the one who’d treaded the path tiled for him all the way to death since his birth, and had never thought of straying a hair’s breadth from it. That realization was so ridiculously ironic Hubert threw his head back and laughed, a broken, dry laugh that brought tears to his eyes. He smashed down his glass and stood up in one motion before anyone could see the rising storm on his face. With hasty steps he walked, no, fled to the door, tore it open and passed through. However, it didn’t slam shut behind him. Suddenly, a shadow squeezed by, charged at him from behind, grabbed his shirt, dragged him around and skillfully used the momentum to smash him against the wall of the bar.

“What is _wrong_ with you, Hubert?” Ferdinand’s voice hit his ears jarringly loud. Before he could react or even realize what in the heavens was happening, his collar was grabbed.

“You don’t like that, do you? Being the one against the wall...” the man before his eyes hissed. There was alcohol in his breath, but he seemed aware of his actions, which angered Hubert immensely because he could make absolutely no sense of his attack. And he went on, deliberately putting all the contempt he could bring up into his words: “Then do something about it! Because right now, _this_ is you... helpless and whiny _,_ and I’m not the only one who sees it!”

“Stop this nonsense, Ferdinand!” Hubert warned him angrily, not yet showing any inclination of pushing back, though he was mentally ready for however violent he would have to get. 

But Ferdinand was not deterred in the least. He held serious, intensive eye contact, as if he was trying to convey something very important to him. Only after a couple of long seconds where his body was pressed almost violently against Hubert’s, he finally broke away and stepped back, and that was when he suddenly seemed to snap out of something. He stood there somewhat lost, and brushed a strand of hair out of his face.

“I’m sorry, Hubert”, he said, surprisingly quietly. Shaking his head he repeated: “I’m really sorry, I shouldn’t have... I just...” 

He cut off as Hubert was now the one to grab his shirt and shove him against the wall in one push. Without a word, the taller man drew close for a moment, just a moment, felt Ferdinand’s hair tickle his cheek just for a heartbeat. Then he seemed to find something, something resembling calm. “Thank you.” he whispered not fully sure why he allowed himself those words, then immediately he retreated as quickly as he attacked and showed Ferdinand, who was left frozen to the wall, nothing more but a complacent smile. He wouldn’t be able to explain these actions to himself, but somehow this ridiculous situation suddenly pleased him, as if a shell had fallen off of him. He had regained a piece of control, a piece of power, a piece of himself. A new perspective.

“And I guess that’s my victory.” he said, turned around on his heels and left, in strangely high spirits.

“You- I- I can’t believe you!” Ferdinand shouted behind him, because he was Ferdinand, and never short of an answer. But he, too, would sleep very restlessly tonight. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> someone give me fanart of hubert with different weapons because yes, dark mage hubert gives me life, but... no one can tell me he never looked at jeritza and thought something amongst the lines of “hey, what if i was _unstoppable_ , but with physical weapons, too”


	5. Part 1, Chapter 5: Ego, Part I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 5, where several things take unexpected turns.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> @ those who came for hubernie: please bear with me i have planned this out this is why it’s slow burn shdhsjdjskak

Hubert slept long, too long, so long it was almost afternoon when he finally dressed himself. Then he ate, and suddenly the afternoon was nearing its end. He sighed looking at the time. Another day he’d spent doing nothing after he’d spent three days in his room, a night almost being assassinated, a day at the bar, another night practicing a skill he would never use, and finally another day at the bar. He truly did not want to know Edelgard’s thoughts about his current pastimes. He just hoped she was too immersed in her work to think or ask about them.

At least the last evening had given him the push he’d needed to finally seize the resolve to go back to work, if only so he could respect himself again. Maybe if he searched for Edelgard now, he would still be able to catch her in a free minute — But the dread of facing her after all that had happened still daunted him, too much to confront her without sufficient mental preparation. No, he could not make it today. It was too late already... he’d go tomorrow.

So to his own annoyance, the frustration about his ongoing uselessness was instead once again driving him to that cursed drinking place, as if he was one of these people who had nothing better to do with their lives. And as expected Ferdinand was there when he entered, in the same spot in the back. Hubert slammed down on the bench and said nothing, and Ferdinand tried very hard not to show a reaction in face of his quite dramatic entrance. He just continued to look out the window, then down into his glass — the usual deep amber-colored whiskey — then finally he shot a short glance towards Hubert’s face, but quickly swayed away when he caught sight of his murderous expression.

Meanwhile, Hubert was sulking in silence as a glass was placed before him, thankful for the (unusually) quiet company which allowed him to focus on his thoughts. Today should’ve really been the day his everyday life went back to usual, but he had thrown himself at every excuse not to. In short, he had procrastinated. A sigh left his mouth that sounded less like a sigh than a demonic beast’s growl. This was how low he’d fallen. It was painful to look at where that downward spiral had taken him. He had once been the one who’d handled all of the Empire’s important affairs. And what was he doing now? He was unable to handle even himself. Goddess, how could someone like him end up trailing behind all the events. He used to be the only reason scheduled things were even happening.

 _How is the Empire not falling apart without me_ , he asked himself.

“Were we at war right now, it certainly would be.” Ferdinand said and shrugged, making Hubert realize he must’ve said that last bit out loud. “But we are not, so we can accommodate somehow. Still, I do hope you are planning to return to your duties soon. Tomorrow, preferably. The entirety of the castle is on their heels because of the—” he abruptly cut off. 

“Because of what?” Hubert asked.

“Because of the wedding” Ferdinand ended quietly.

Of course. The wedding. Hubert had forgotten it was an actual pending event. In his mind, it felt as if it had already happened. He hated that Ferdinand believed he shouldn’t mention it in his presence. He was right, of course — but the fact that he was careful not to remind him proved once again that he was fully aware of what it really meant to him. He shuddered at the thought that by now surely everyone knew how pathetic he was. But he had to be done pitying himself. 

In any case, he knew trying to prove that it never affected him would only achieve the opposite, and he was tired of telling that lie anyway, so instead he said, not without a certain arrogance: “If there is any problem you fools cannot handle, let me know.”

“Will do.” Ferdinand smiled, as if he had missed his inconsiderate (but deep down considerate) lordliness.

In a strange kind of mutual understanding, they both took sips from their drinks. This time, it burned nicely. Good heavens, if this went on, Hubert would actually end up taking a liking to it. He’d have to put an end to that inappropriate going to the bar habit immediately once he had rearrived at something resembling normality. Ah, what did normality feel like again? Had he actually ever known it? So far his adulthood had been preparing for a war, fighting a war, and cleaning up the aftermath of a war. Though really, Fódlan had already been a field of war before the battles had broken out. So maybe fighting had been their normality, fighting to break out...

He was cut from his thoughts by something warm and soft weighing down on his hand. It flustered him so much that his initial reflex was to pull away violently and smash it with his glass, but he stopped himself at the very last second and only a jumped breath escaped his nose. Abruptly, he looked up at Ferdinand, whose eyes were already shamelessly locked on his.

“What. Do you believe yourself to be doing?” Hubert groaned menacingly, trying his best to blind out the uncomfortable prickling under the skin of his fingers.

“Taking your hand.” was the cocky response. 

His bluntness left Hubert speechless for a moment, but before he could find something to encounter, Ferdinand hit him dead with a voice of pure candy: “My apologies, did you not want me to?”

And if Hubert had been speechless before, he was mindless now, and stared at Ferdinand’s chest trying to get a hold of his thoughts, but the alien object on his skin started to affect him more the longer he felt it. It was warm. He wanted it gone. But then it would be cold. He wanted it to stay. And when suddenly he felt it move away, it left a sweltering hole on his skin, and before his brain could counteract he jumped after the urge to stretch out his fingers, and slammed them down on Ferdinand’s as if to hold them back.

Their flesh collided in a wave of flames. After it had rolled them over Hubert’s hand kept resting heavy on the back of Ferdinand’s, growing more and more sensitive of the rough skin beneath it with each second passed. During all of it, he was trying his hardest not to think, because a thought as to why he had done this, or what it implied, would’ve probably shot his brain the final blow. He raised his eyes, and Ferdinand was smiling. Hubert emptied his glass in one shot to make not thinking easier.

“If you wouldn’t mind returning with me this evening, I could further inform you about the political developments you have missed.” Ferdinand offered after a while, as their hands slowly began to relax on each other, and he gently interlocked their fingers. Hubert had to command himself continuously not to instinctively pull away at every unexpected movement. Ferdinand pretended not to notice. “Edelgard might not want to admit it, but she is in quite desperate need of you.” he went on. “So if you are ready to return, I will assist you in all the ways I can.”

There were many aspects of this that startled Hubert. The casual intimacy. The mention of Edelgard needing him. And finally, Ferdinand’s genuine proposal of help. It did not seem like him to reach out so unhesitatingly, to be so unconditionally supportive of him. But then again, this was not the first time Hubert was noticing that the Ferdinand he thought he knew had long metamorphosed into another state of himself, who still looked and chatted and argued like Ferdinand, but with a new frightening awareness of what he was doing, and a maturity he couldn’t believe he hadn’t noticed sooner.

Hubert realized he had been so caught up trying to read their enemies that he’d had no thoughts to spare for the changes within their allies. After Linhardt and Caspar had left for travel, and Dorothea had joined with Petra in Brigid, he’d considered them constants, nothing more than given circumstances. He realized now how careless that was of him. Just because his own thoughts and relationships had mostly remained unchanged, that wouldn’t stop others from fundamental developments. Maybe he wouldn’t even recognize the people that had once been his comrades when they stood before him again.

Maybe this period of confusion was just him finally evolving, too. He’d never thought he had any need for evolution, but maybe he had been wrong. Maybe Ferdinand knew. Hubert suddenly felt like a child next to him. That alone should tell him something was definitely wrong... no, really, _everything_ was, from the intimacy of their conversation to that warm hand enclosing his.

The edges of his cheeks were hot. Didn’t everyone here know who they were? Wouldn’t they have to fear rumors? But somehow he couldn’t push himself to truly care because he was busy realizing how good it felt to be the focus of someone’s attention, to be approached, to be held. And as he increasingly felt he was longing for something, Ferdinand was sending him a message. _I see you._ And it calmed him immensely. Because he was not one who had to be pitied for his life in service, his choices, or his solitude. His life was still in his hands, and he was more than the part of him that had broken down. He realized he was glad Ferdinand was there, and doing whatever he was doing. It made him feel something else than anger at himself.

Though he wondered why the Prime Minister, who surely had his hands full with all sorts of nuisances, was deciding to spend his free time this way. Why did he seem so fixated on him? They had always been tied to each other in their conflicts, but right now, they weren’t fighting. They were talking, coexisting, choosing each other’s company. Maybe, he considered, it just pleased Ferdinand to throw him off. Well, if that was the case, Hubert wouldn’t let him break through his defense. 

“Would you like another drink?” Ferdinand asked out of the blue, absent-mindedly stroking the back of his hand with his thumb. Hubert’s defense shattered. “Or would you prefer returning early? Either way is fine with me.”

“Who told you it was my intention to return with you?” Hubert huffed, not quite feeling like the master of his own mind anymore. Ferdinand gave him an almost scolding look.

“Initial plans may change.” he replied with an irritating arrogance that made him resemble his 17-year-old self.

“What if we are being observed, Ferdinand?”

“We would merely be walking back to the castle together.” Ferdinand laughed, and Hubert had nothing more left than a sigh.

“Then I trust you to leave it at walking.” he warned him not very seriously, growing increasingly alarmed at his own carefree reaction to what he believed was happening. 

Though was it even happening? What was “it”, exactly? It was Ferdinand von Aegir, who had just taken his hand. Had asked to accompany him to the bar yesterday, offered twice to get him a drink, asked him now to return together. Had basically taken him out over the course of two days, and it hadn’t even felt like an inappropriate thing for him to do. Had he maybe — No. Had he, was he, _planning_ this? Hubert’s jumping thoughts stopped at that because he was unable to take his imagination further. But whatever Ferdinand was or wasn’t thinking, Hubert just knew he hated that he carried it out so casually, so nonchalantly confident, as if this was nothing new or questionable for him at all. 

Brooding, he did not say a word while they returned, and he was not interrupted in his thoughts either, until they reached the main halls.

“My rooms are this way.” Ferdinand informed him there as if they didn’t both know the castle’s layout by heart. “Some documents of your field have been entrusted to me. They were not urgent when I received them, but I believe they are due to be looked at now.”

A thought crossed Hubert’s mind as he said this. One he didn’t like at all. “Did Edelgard order you to... bring me back?” He almost choked on how pathetic the last words made him sound. Hearing that, Ferdinand gave him a long look, and it seemed to cut right into him.

“She did not.” he said, and they continued on their way. “In fact, she quite unmistakably told all of us to leave you alone. She is weak for you, you know... instructed me and the professor not to bother you, because you need time by yourself. But I personally think no one fends off anything well alone.” As he spoke his eyes were still resting on Hubert, and gradually they became piercing.

“I am fit to be alone. I have always handled matters on my own.” Hubert murmured, retracting into himself under his gaze. 

Ferdinand looked away. “That is why I am merely opening the door for you. You may go in by yourself” he said, and as they reached the entrance to his rooms and he held the door open, a short dark laugh suddenly escaped Hubert at the younger man’s face, which could not hide how visibly pleased he was with his own play of words. 

“You are quite something.” he said under his breath, and entered.

The walls and furniture were decorated quite tastefully, with touches of red and gold, and Hubert had to admit it was a nice distraction from the rather colorless aesthetic of his own rooms. He looked at it for a while, while Ferdinand took off his cape.

“I have been stuck in this uniform since early this morning, I assume you don’t mind if I remove the uncomfortable layers of it?” he asked, and Hubert gave no objections. As Ferdinand took off the heavy layers of his robes, he sat down and tried to relax. Ferdinand adjusted his white shirt. Hubert noticed he was staring at him a little longer than he ought to. 

“How are the wedding preparations progressing?” he quickly threw in the question in a mildly desperate attempt to divert his mind (and hopefully Ferdinand’s, too, so he wouldn’t notice his unrest). 

“Oh, it’s a nightmare.” Ferdinand more than readily took the chance to lament, taking a seat next to him. “Preparing the event was just a trivial task at first, but now that everyone knows, the chaos is immense!”

“Now that everyone knows?” Hubert intercepted, recalling Edelgard had made the public announcement mere hours after telling him. A lurking undertone was in his voice as he looked at the man next to him and asked: “How long have _you_ known?”

Ferdinand’s abashed face, even though he tried to fix it instantly, told him everything and more. The mood had shifted.

“So you _have_ known before.” he concluded, and the fact that Ferdinand did not ask when he had learned about it confirmed his assumptions. Ferdinand must’ve known he had been told at the very last second. They must’ve kept the engagement a secret from him, and him in particular, on purpose.

“No, I—” Ferdinand started, but realized he messed up, and knew not to make it worse. “I apologize, I should have told you.” he said. “She told me she didn’t want— it wasn’t necessary for anyone to know, only the ones entrusted with the first preparations. I assume she intended to prevent some of the chaos.”

 _Anyone_ , he said, but the short gap he left after it really screamed _especially you_. Suddenly, Hubert was done sitting here. A breath cut through his lips and he was about to stand up, when a hand grabbed his wrist.

“Wait” the urgent voice behind him said and he looked back — a rookie’s mistake. In an instant, he was caught by his pretty face, his lips, and the hot single strands of sunset hair falling over his eyes as he bent over to hold him back. Had Ferdinand always _looked_ like that? 

”Don’t misunderstand, I would never try to keep you here.” he clarified quickly, “but I need to know, are you angry at me?” He put emphasis on the last words as if he expected him to be, but hoped for the contrary. He seemed to feel bad about the whole situation, bad for him, which honestly didn’t make it any better. But as Hubert thought about it, he found he really didn’t blame him, or care about his involvement in the matter at all. If anything, Edelgard was the one who’d wanted to keep it from him.

“No” he therefore replied as he turned away, and his scarce answer was enough for the other man to let go instantly. “I’m glad” he sighed, and his flowery smile was in his voice. Suddenly, it felt really difficult to break away and leave, as if Ferdinand’s presence had sweetened into a magic charm pulling him back, and Hubert hesitated a moment too long for it to stay unnoticed.

He felt the eyes resting on his back like a question, a tentative question that made his mind go blank for a split second. And then in a desperate leap of his mind he threw his reservations overboard, turned back around and kissed him, and they both fell miles into a kiss that raised their souls to the stars, and tore at their hearts with a growing, insatiable hunger. They conquered the sky, devoured the sun, and their hands tore into each other’s bodies like water at a cliff; Ferdinand’s pressed into Hubert’s chest, and Hubert held Ferdinand’s shoulders and slid down into his back, where he grabbed his shirt and tore it over his head. They looked at each other, panting, smiling, breathless, mindless but somehow in agreement, a hot, delicate agreement that none of them wanted to waste any more time getting to.

———

It was the next morning when he left Ferdinand’s room, and he was in a strange mood. Their clash had been frighteningly passionate, as if two gravities were finally aligning, like a sunflower finally meeting the face of the sun. Ferdinand had done his very best to shatter everything that had remained from Hubert’s image of him... though surprisingly, it didn’t feel like much had changed between them at all. The Ferdinand Hubert looked at now was capturing, enticing, provoking, but the jarring thing was he was still the same person as before. They were still the same people as before. There had just been a shift in gravity, a recalibration of perspective, and it had locked so tightly that maybe it had for a long time been bound to redirect that way. Still, how exactly their tension and constant bouncing off of each other had turned into _this_ Hubert could spend months trying to find an explanation for; and in the end all the words he knew would be painfully unsatisfactory for describing the raw wanting he felt now when his eyes fell on Ferdinand.

He hated that it was this particular man who he felt such a connection to, but at the same time he didn’t mind it at all because he had long realized that he didn’t dislike him anymore, that it had in fact become the contrary — he couldn’t, and also didn’t want to, deny the connection that was there, the mutual understanding that had only grown deeper now.

They knew each other. They had known each other for long, and they fully admitted it now. (At least for Hubert it was now. He didn’t know how long Ferdinand had seen that other side.) And, well, while it hadn’t changed who they were, it _had_ changed the way they behaved around each other — meaning it had resulted in quite a lot more staring and touching, and a visible permanent hunger stuck in their eyes. Hubert hoped Ferdinand could keep those eyes to himself in public, but to his shame he had to admit he didn’t entirely trust himself, either. 

He walked up the stairs to his room to change out of his sweaty clothes, and get the crow nest that had once been his hair under control. He was ready to face her now. He was ready to take back the life that was his. Tough still, even with a night passed, he could not help but feel sour at the fact that — however childish it sounded — he hadn’t been the first to learn about the engagement. She had told Ferdinand, _Ferdinand_ , instead of him. Not only as her confidant, but as her friend, he felt betrayed.

And when he left his room, that thought still hung in his mind and ate at him, and suddenly out of nowhere another suspicion crossed his mind, and it angered him before he’d even confirmed it. Ferdinand had probably not been the only one to know before him. Following an impulse, he hurried over to Bernadetta’s and knocked on her door. 

“W-What is it?” she answered in surprise, and hearing her voice took him aback after all. Suddenly, he felt an irrational urge to leave, but he forced himself to composure. “Hubert, is that you?”

“It _is_ you, isn’t it?” It suddenly sounded hopeful, and he could hear her stepping over to the door. Instinct took him a step back. What did she want? He didn’t have the energy for yet another conflict in his mind, and so far, she had sparked nothing but conflict. Her voice was intimately close as she started out: “Listen, Hubert, I was thinking... I know we haven’t talked much over the last few days, but would you have a minute to come in to—”

Quickly he cut her off. “I need to ask you something. Did you have knowledge of Edelgard and the professor’s engagement before they announced the wedding?” he asked what he’d come to ask, before he had time to think about what she was saying, and forget what he had originally come for. The question came out more than a tad too coldly, which he immediately regretted, but her voice and words had been so soft it had felt meaningful, and it had alarmed a part of him, the one that still dreaded her judgement. His mind was too loud already, he couldn’t let her stir it up more. Right now he needed to push all thoughts of her down, whatever they might be, before they could manifest.

After a confused pause at his reaction Bernadetta answered: “Um, yes, Byleth told me at some point”, and Hubert’s face crunched being hit with her first name again. Of course her and Bernadetta were close, as well. Bernadetta had a life, too, behind that door, and beyond it... But before his mind could jump on that thought and pursue it into nowhere, he recalled she’d just given him the answer he wanted. He could leave that confusion behind now. He just had to leave for now. He could come back to her later.

Though what she’d given him wasn’t at all the answer he had wanted. His feelings from before resurfaced, gradually superseding the confusion she’d almost made him fall into. Resolutely now, he turned around and walked away, ignoring her confused call in his back, and especially desperately ignoring the senseless regretful longing stuck in his chest, trying to draw him back to her door.

———

It wasn’t difficult to find out Edelgard’s location, but when he knocked and entered the planning room, he was still surprised to actually find her there. She looked good, but that didn’t matter now. Inadvertently, nervosity welled up in him, overshadowing everything else. He suppressed it along with all his other feelings and greeted her with a bow.

“Hubert, I was just about to search for you!” she welcomed him, which answered the question on his lips of whether or not she had a moment. When she raised her eyes to look at him, her focused expression revealed hesitant joy to see him. But even though she tried to hide it and did so very well, Hubert could make out the strain on her face indicating the stress she was under. 

“You have been overworking yourself.” he noted, and instantly the mask fell off her face. She sighed, looking and sounding very tired.

“As much as I hate to admit it, everything is outgrowing me.” she said. “Listen, I know I promised you a week, but there is a meeting tomorrow that would require your presence...”

“That should not be a problem.” Hubert responded. He didn’t want her to spend any more effort for his sake, and he was almost relieved to hear there would be something to do immediately. But his answer seemed to surprise her.

“Are you sure?” she asked with more than a trace of astonishment, and fixed him with her eyes. They were beautiful, stern eyes... swimming in concern. Suddenly Hubert could see it, the fact that she pitied him. It twisted his stomach in disgust.

“It was a quiet week, which is why I chose it to start the preparations.” she explained, with an ongoing softness in her voice. Pitying softness that matched her eyes. “It should be easy for you to find back. But if you need any help...”

“ _It is not a problem._ ” Hubert repeated, and his voice was cutting, and a tiny bit shaky with irritation, which she seemed to misunderstand. Instead of being relieved, she looked at him now with a sorry face that beat the one from before. 

Hubert didn’t understand her demeanor. It was so unlike her, and there was no reason for it. If he didn’t know better, he’d think she was being condescending. She looked at him like Caspar would look at a beaten dog. But why? He was on his feet, standing before her, on his feet. She could stop talking to him as if he was about to start crying. What made him so pitiful? What was he not seeing? What did he have to do for her to _stop looking_? It suddenly took all his self-control not to shout the question in her face because her eyes were burning through him like pieces of hot iron, and it drove him crazy.

“I apologize.” she said, and he was not sure what she was apologizing for. “I do trust you to handle this well.”

Handle _what_ well. The job he’d been doing since he was born? Or his present humiliation? He could not make sense of her words anymore so they just sounded derogatory. He was at the edge of his nerves — until she spoke again, this time in a different, strikingly formal tone.

“Can I count on you?” she asked, and that finally snapped him out of his irritated thoughts. He looked at her clearly now. Her face was serious.

_Can I count on you._

It felt like standing at a gate. Go in, return to normal, continue devoting his life to her regardless of personal feelings, like he had always done, and still wanted to do. It was an offer. His answer was meaningful. Answering “yes” now would mean yes unconditionally, yes without doubt, with full heart and full trust. But there was one distrust.

“You didn’t inform me about the engagement.” Hubert said.

“You’re right, I didn’t.” Edelgard replied, unsure of the intention behind this statement. If she was honest to herself, she had hoped he’d never mention it. “I should have told you. I’m sorry.” she offered.

That was not enough for him. “Ferdinand knew.” he reproached her further, and his expression made clear how much it bothered him. 

She closed her eyes for a second, contemplating her response. “We didn’t tell _anyone._ ” she then said. “Except Ferdinand, because someone had to handle the formalities.”

“Then why didn’t you let _me_ handle them?” his voice flared up a bit. The fact that she straight up lied to him now angered him. Didn’t she even trust him enough to be honest with him?

“I deemed it unnecessary to bother you with this kind of frivolous task!” she answered, this time with a stressing urge. Her eyes sent him a clear warning look because she saw that he was irrationally worked up, and his uncontrolled temper angered her extremely. 

_Let it go now_ , she warned him. _Just let it go._

Did she think he could not see the pity stuck in her eyes?

“That’s ridiculous!” he yelled and all his anger was in his words, even the one he held against himself and that had nothing to do with her. But he hated the way she treated him right now, lying to him just as one would lie to a child, even though he was the one she could trust with anything. But now Ferdinand had known, Bernadetta had known, and the only reason he had been left out was that he had humiliated himself once by making a confession, a stupid confession that, whatever it meant or didn’t mean, had ruined everything. Now she thought she had to patronize him as if he couldn’t handle it — fine, he’d shown he couldn’t handle it, but he was getting over it, and he would be getting over it even better if she stopped treating him like someone who couldn’t! He didn’t even want to think about everything she had chosen not to say or do in his presence up until now just because she was worried to scratch him, as if he was a figurine made of sand that would collapse when looked at the wrong way. He was not a child! He could deal with these things by himself, he didn’t need her for it! “Your self-gratification sickens me!” he spat out, only half aware of what he was really saying, and not at all willing to think about it. He was just angry, angry at the mess he was, angry that she could see it and didn’t hide her concern from him, and the more he thought about it the more irrational his thoughts became. Before he knew it, his voice grew louder. “You chose not to tell me, me in particular because you conceit yourself to be the only one who knows what’s best for other people, and it makes EVERYTHING WORSE!” His voice had long broken. He didn’t even realize it.

“Hubert, you are forgetting yourself!” Edelgard now shouted back unrestrainedly, in complete disbelief that he was throwing a tantrum like — like a boy whose undeveloped fragile ego was hurt. He had never, _never_ had the insolence to attack her personally, raise his voice against her, or subvert her authority in such a way. But more than anything it was his words that hit her, harder than his disrespect, harder than anything she could remember anyone ever saying to her. It was not like him to be so shortsighted, so uncollected, so completely unable to try to understand the other’s mind. It angered her to no end.

“I was only trying to protect your feelings!” she stressed with a hint of despair, not knowing what else to say to him anymore. But maybe saying nothing would’ve been better.

“I don’t need your protection!” he hurled back immediately. “ _You_ need _mine_!”

That took her breath away. Hubert could see flames boiling up in her disbelieving face. Was he even listening to his nonsense anymore? She stood there for more than a couple of long moments, several times almost about to say something, but stopping herself at the last second. 

“I will not have any more of this.” she finally pressed out and turned around before she did something that both of them would regret. She was the Emperor, she repeated to herself, she could not lose composure over such a ridiculous offense. But it took all of her self-control to walk away without another word. 

Hubert, still trembling with rage he suddenly didn’t fully understand anymore, watched as she left, and felt painfully unsatisfied. Getting angry had neither de- nor inflated his frustration, only passed it on to someone else. He was tempted to shout again, at nobody else but himself, but he didn’t. It was all useless. This ridiculously unnecessary fight was his fault alone, he knew it.

He stood in the planning room motionless for a couple of delirious seconds, until he took a step forward and slammed his fists down on the large table with the map of the Empire. What had he done? He only now started to realize who he had raised his voice against. The one he had sworn to never betray and to protect at all costs. The one he had seen live through hell twice, never to be released from it, who was still giving everything for a future she would never see. Who had given him everything, and continued to drain her energy worrying about him, even when she was overwhelmed with issues of the magnitude of a whole nation. 

What had he _done_? 

He threw his head into his hands.

He had thought he had regained some control, some confidence, but suddenly he knew nothing of himself anymore. He just knew that she had been right about him all along. Regardless of whether or not her reaction had been ideal, in the end she had read him like an immature boy, and he had acted like one. And still, _still,_ some stupid part of him felt in the right.

It was a complete defeat. If he had ever been on the way to become the dark powerful immovable Count Hubert von Vestra that people would fear and flinch away from, well, he had just killed him in a trash heap on fire. He stood petrified at the table as it all fell into pieces. 

Burning again, huh? And burning alone, because this idiocy he would not be able to explain even to Ferdinand. Oh, and Bernadetta... Whatever she’d wanted to tell him, he didn’t even listen.

Bernadetta. So it was her again who dealt the final blow. Though no, it really wasn’t her who was dealing it, it was the boomerang he’d thrown himself which now hurled back and hit him in the eye. How did he realize only now that she had not only tried to talk to him, but genuinely reached out for him? Offered reconciliation. _Invited him in._ Just how many of her shadows had she leapt over to stretch out for him in that moment, just so he could suffocate her in the cradle of her words? How many more chances would _all of them_ bear to fling at him so he could make a sport out of kicking them away? Just how many more of all their hopes would he crush? It seemed like in the end, he was truly only fit to be alone.

He leaned on the table and his head fell back. Yes, he’d just be alone. He’d known from the beginning that all his pain was his to bear. 

But oh, how desperately he yearned in that moment for someone to wrap their arms around him and hold him from behind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i bow to everyone who has made it all the way through to here. thank you so so much for reading and i hope you found some enjoyment in it because let me tell you, it was a pain in the ass to write.
> 
> these first chapters are a little bit over the place, which might be due to the fact that i originally did not write the scenes in order..... this will be different in the next chapters, though (hopefully).
> 
> finally, about the night i conveniently cut out of this M rated fanfic... i am writing it and might post it separately, but in case i don’t... _~~it’s FerHu~~_
> 
> thank you again and have a wonderful day!!


	6. Part 2, Chapter 1: The Morning before a Battle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 6, in which Hubert tries to find out where to go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter, for some reason, was very hard for me to write. but it's here, and it'll be continued! in this one, the ferdibert is strong BUT we're moving towards hubernie. I promise latest chapter 9. I promise!!

The next morning, Hubert ate his breakfast without tasting it, emptying his coffee in two large sips to wash it down. He felt the way he used to feel during one of these mornings before a battle, grim, apathetic, and accompanied by that constant undercurrent of lurking energy, only waiting to be released. He didn’t yet know how to get through the day, only that enemies and obstacles awaited him. Today, most of them would be coming from himself. 

It was still early, but already the sun was beaming through the musty glass of the windows. With a toneless sigh, he stood up to pull the drapes. He had not forgotten about the conference Edelgard had told him about the day before, and he knew he’d have to set out early enough to be there in time. Even though he hadn’t given her the opportunity to inform him about anything, not even the subject, he was obviously expected there regardless. Luckily, time and place were easily obtainable information if one knew who to ask. Still, he caught himself lingering, pouring himself another cup of coffee, and sitting back down to steal another moment. 

A deep sigh escaped him as he stared into his cup. He could’ve gone to her rooms and reconciled with her right that evening, but apparently, he was too much of a coward. Not scared of battle or pain or gruesome death, but scared of humiliation. He’d once thought it would be shameful to report a tactical mistake, the loss of a bataillon or a failed maneuver — but none of that could compare to the regret pulling at his chest right now. His loss of self-control was the kind of madness he’d have someone else executed for, but when it had fallen on him, he’d run away.

He buried his head in his arms to rake through his hair, pulling at the tips while he sat still for a moment. And another… and another. After a few minutes he finally stood up to go wash his face, but in the bathroom, he made the mistake of looking up, and his eyes were caught by his own in the mirror. The same eyes whose reflection he had once seen in the windows of the cathedral, the same eyes that used to stare back at him from the puddles on the battlefield. Hubert felt nothing like the person they belonged to. That person had known what they wanted and what needed to be done to achieve it, while the face he looked at now was made of stone, and in it were carved frustration and a longing for something he still could not name. It was cold like the Tailtean Plains.

He was unable to break away. The longer he stared, the more he saw Bernadetta stare back at him again, with those eyes that had pierced right through him that day. He felt them on his face as if she was still there, quiet and firm, observing from afar. Why. Why her? She was not his teacher, nor someone he admired, so why was it her face that looked back at him now? _You can do better_ , her eyes had said. So openly and sincerely that for a moment, he had believed it. 

Before he knew or understood it anger hardened Hubert’s face, and for the first time he could really see just how cruel it made him look. This was what other people saw when they looked at him in disdain, for just long enough to be noticeable before they turned away. This was what Bernadetta had seen when he’d glared at her that day on the street soaked in blood, with that terrible coldness in his eyes. In that moment he had felt it, that if she looked at someone, there was a reason for it. When she understood, she understood. She had carried that sincerity through all the horrors she had experienced - for a moment, she’d even opened up and carried it all the way to him. And now she looked at him directly, she looked at him with disapproval, she looked at him with disappointment, and she was right - he was cruel, and egoistic, and a coward. 

He let out a loud growling breath and before he knew it, his palm smashed against the wall next to the mirror. Wasn’t this what he’d already known he was? His loss of composure had been a once in a lifetime hit of insanity, but everything else - his lack of empathy, his unwillingness to communicate emotion, and how all of his sense of purpose was tied to the Emperor - had always been who he was, and he had long been subject to side glances because of it. At the time he’d found it amusing, charming even, but somehow, now that he was no longer fully taken up in a clear goal, now that he was separated from Edelgard, there was nothing left to hold off his doubts. He turned away, and in the corner of his eye he noticed the glass screen move, and a split second later the mirror fell and cracked on the shelf. Shards spread over the ground and fell into the water. He left without looking back.

He wanted to prove them wrong. He had to. He would. Once he was immersed in work again, he would find back to his confidence, all the way back to the purpose and the plans. Once him and Edelgard had reconciled, everything would be as it had been before. He’d be immersed in work, the work he would always be wanted for regardless of what he or others thought of himself. Everything would be as it had been before. A bitter smile formed on his lips as he made his way down the staircase to the main hall. He would make something of this day, whatever that something ended up to be. 

For better or worse, he didn’t have to wait at all.

“Good morning.” Ferdinand said as he went down the last steps. He looked around the corner into the short corridor and there he stood, right at the wall next to the staircase, with hair so curly and a little bit frizzy it looked like he’d just stepped fresh out of the shower. As Hubert took the last steps, he pushed himself off the wall and smiled at him, half blocking the staircase in his usual bright morning mood.

“What in the heavens are you doing here?” Hubert asked, leaning forward in a subtle attempt to get him to take a step backwards so that he could pass smoothly.

“I came to accompany you to the conference!” Ferdinand replied, not moving back an inch, and instead looking up at him brightly, even further up than usual because Hubert was still standing on the last step.

“So soon?” Hubert sounded openly sceptical, crossing his arms.

Ferdinand’s head tilted puzzledly. “We will be meeting very early in the morning today, as requested by our guests from Brigid. There’s only about half an hour left. Did you not know?” 

Hubert cursed silently. He’d once been better at pretending to know things.

“Is something the matter?” Ferdinand asked.

“No.” he said flatly, staring grumpily into the hall.

“You used to be good at lying.” Ferdinand sighed. A short silence spread. Hubert went down the last step and, surprisingly, leaned onto the wall next to him to glare into the still mostly empty morning hall. Ferdinand leaned back as well and followed his eyes to the walls and pillars on the opposite side, where both of them looked at nothing in particular. They stood in tentative silence for a while. 

Ferdinand couldn’t help but feel like he didn’t know anything about Hubert’s life these days, and it bothered him immensely. The man next to him seemed to be living in a different town, at least emotionally. Partly, it had always been that way, but now more than ever Ferdinand felt that he was losing him, even though they had just stared at each other intimately the morning before. That moment now felt ages away. In that one very short night, he had seized a piece of Hubert that was normally stuck behind untraversable clouds, but now, it already seemed completely irrelevant again. Now all there was was his signature unapproachability, and who knew what was going on behind it. Was it just Edelgard, still? What else could there be that not even him, Ferdinand, could guess? Was he just not as good at reading him as he had always thought?

Goddess, could no one get a hold of this man for longer than an evening? If there was a way, whatever it was, he would try, but right now, it seemed there was nothing he could do but keep talking to him and try to prevent him from withdrawing completely. That, at least, was something he knew he was good at. Hubert was calibrated to spending four times the effort in order to avoid asking for help, so Ferdinand would just have to throw it at him.

“Do you know what will be the topic of the meeting?” he asked, fairly certain that he knew what the answer was.

“No.” Hubert crunched gravel in his mouth.

“I will tell you, then.”

So he told him. Guests from Brigid had arrived at short notice to rediscuss their relationship to the Empire. The Empire's rapid internal changes naturally transformed its dynamic with the surrounding nations, and Edelgard did everything in her power to uphold their current friendliness with them. Hubert knew that even further than Brigid, she had for a long time been working on spinning ties to Dagda, but this was proving even more difficult than expected, considering that their hostility towards the Empire wasn’t exactly decreasing with its expansion. In Brigid’s case, cooperation seemed to be the current goal for both sides, but still their current and future relationship was highly dependent on recurrent debates and reassessments of each other’s powers. They had to make sure they knew each other’s intentions closely and clearly. There was no such thing as blind trust when it came to affairs between nations.

Sadly, Petra was not part of the representatives. It seemed that her grandfather was still reluctant to send her back to Fódlan. Ferdinand had heard, though, that she would pay the continent a visit during the next months, which they would both be happy about. They managed to banter about the whereabouts of their former classmates for a short while; however, even though they shared similar sentiments, neither of them were really invested in the conversation. Gradually, the time of the conference drew close, and Ferdinand grew more and more worried that afterwards, Hubert would just slip away again and leave him in the dark again. It was unfair. He was tired of having to run after him to know every little thing that was going on. So when they were about to set out from their undisturbed spot, he decided to disregard Hubert’s potentially explosive temper and take another shot. 

“Now that we still have some time, might you tell me what’s causing this awful mood of yours?” he asked, calmly but resolutely. “You met with Edelgard yesterday evening, didn’t you? What did she say?”

Hubert, who had just managed to forget about the day before, threw his head back in an exasperated sigh. He wanted to give a cranky response to Ferdinand’s stubbornness, or a vacuous one, but he couldn’t think of anything he could possibly say that wouldn’t be a flat out lie, which he wouldn’t believe anyway. Hubert was starting to feel the need to break out and slash a sword around again. Or blow something up. A tree, not a person. Definitely not a person.

“Hubert, talk to me!” Ferdinand insisted, trying to draw his attention back on him, but all he got as a response was half a growl that ascended from deep in Hubert’s throat. The unsettled mood was starting to crystallize into a more and more strong urge for discharge, and the man before him was the only one around to become the target. Ferdinand became aware of green eyes resting on him and burning into the skin on his neck, and to him, it was certain that Hubert was doing it on purpose to distract him from his inquiries. Unfortunately, it was working. Trying to resist a stare like that was like trying not to think about a thing he had just been told explicitly not to think about. Too powerful. Silently he cursed the concept of gravity and that his mind always fell victim to it. 

“I’m not in a good mood, Ferdinand, and I’d appreciate it if you’d keep your mouth shut for these last couple of minutes before I make you.” Hubert groaned, and his voice resembled the full menacing hum of a honey bee from which you could not tell whether it was trying to make friends, or advising you to run before it had completed preparing your assassination. Either way, it meant that Ferdinand would not get an answer to his questions, and that instead, he’d awoken something he might have to take responsibility for.

“Why must you be so dramatic today?” he exclaimed, still trying to get through to him somehow.

“Dramatic, you say?” Hubert laughed with amusement so dark it could probably cause an eclipse. He leaned delicately towards the man in his shadow. “Can’t I borrow that from you once in a while?” He really, thoroughly enjoyed being the taller one, even if the gap had over the years shrunk to become only (what Ferdinand called) a little bit. Unfortunately for him, the blackness of Hubert’s uniform was just too dominant to not make the difference seem larger than it actually was. 

“Maybe I’m dramatic,” Ferdinand started out, but then lost track of what he was trying to say, and ended in a desperate growl. “But at least I’m not so… so, so theatrically sinister!”

“Oh?” Hubert asked, and made his way over to him in two big steps, skillfully tricking him into believing he was pushed against a wall despite the huge empty room behind him. “You know”, he murmured darkly, “I quite like being sinister”, and with these words he grabbed Ferdinand’s chin, and kissed him out of the sky. He smashed him through the clouds, into the ground, then up a mountain, where he held him in place with both his hands and his body. 

“Ferdinand von Aegir” Hubert groaned hungrily, one hand sliding into the back of his neck, the other wrapped tightly around his right wrist which he now released to sensually press the back of his fingers against his chest instead. 

Ferdinand noticed he had moved backwards, and his back had hit a pillar he was now pushed against. He didn’t remember Hubert’s body to be so heavy, so dense, so blocking everything else. A tall, stifling wall of black. He could see nothing beyond him. He gasped for air because Hubert would barely let him get any. 

“I underestimated you” he shivered as Hubert’s finger hushed over his collarbone. “You— oh fuck” the curse escaped him against his will and it satisfied Hubert to no extent to have gotten that out of him. This was exactly what he needed right now, power and control, and Ferdinand gave him exactly the reactions he wanted.

“Well, that is something you don’t want to do” he whispered against his teeth and licked over them until they let him in, just to suddenly be forcefully pushed away the next moment. Before he knew it, a flat hand pressed onto his chest, trying to get some air between them.

“We’re in the hall, Hubert, I’d like to remind you,” Ferdinand squeezed out, regretting deeply to interrupt, but he had no idea what (and if at all, really) Hubert was thinking, so it was on him to rally his last cognitive capacities before they shut down along with the rest and left them in a situation they would both regret. 

Hubert’s response to this reminder was to push close again, intimately close, until Ferdinand’s hand was all that separated their bodies. “You’re right, we should move,” he said, showing no signs of moving. Instead, he put his right hand under Ferdinand’s chin while his left softly caressed the back of his neck. Ferdinand froze in a shiver while they hovered in that position until suddenly, the environment changed and became the room at the other end of the hall, or more specifically, the other side of the door to that room. “That should prevent possible disturbances.” he heard the dark voice murmur in his face and before his mind could follow the events his lips were kissed again, and soon his body reacted. It took another moment for his mind to realize that they had been warped.

Hubert smiled into the kiss. He enjoyed it way too much to have him at his mercy, especially when he could make him shut up for a couple of minutes, or however long he wanted to, for that matter. He had found he didn’t require expertise in intimacy if he was already an expert in intimidation. The jump was small, apparently. Despite their huge difference in strength he pushed the other man back against the door with ease, all thanks to body language and maybe also the fact that Ferdinand really didn’t have much of a defense when it came to seduction, especially when it was someone with Hubert’s very special type of dominance. For him in this situation, there was no reason to even try to resist, honestly.

He tried anyway, mumbling something about the conference and the time they had to be present at, but Hubert didn’t listen to any of it. If there was more than 5 minutes, then they still had time, and if they had more then 10, that just meant they could spend 5 more. They wouldn’t be able to get out of their clothes, but there was plenty of other things to do. More kissing, for instance. It took definitely longer than five minutes until Hubert pulled back for a moment and gave both of them space to breathe, their bodies pressed so hard against each other that their temperatures merged.

“Well, was this worth your scarce free time?” he smirked, still catching his breath.

“Maybe” Ferdinand replied, still caught between the tall hot body and the door. His breath hacked off and he took a deep new one. “If I told you it was the most I have enjoyed myself this week save the time we last met, would you then finally listen to what I have to say?”

“Maybe.” Hubert said. He had to admit that these couple of minutes had worked miracles to his mood. “Though I don’t think I’ll have anything interesting to tell you.”

“Then tell me this,” Ferdinand said, now very seriously. “Did you and Edelgard have a fight?”

And there Hubert’s mood went down spiraling again. How could he possibly hit it spot on. Must be a coincidence. A really annoying one. “What makes you think that would ever happen?” he asked, and backed off a little bit.

“So you didn’t?” Ferdinand concluded, with a hint of a lurking undertone.

Hubert stared back at him for a moment. Then he moved closer again, squeezing Ferdinand’s wrist between his hand and the wall. His look pierced through him. “Did you wait for me downstairs just to ask me questions like this?” 

“Don’t divert the topic.” Ferdinand said, doing his best to ignore the naturally frightening dark vibrations in his voice.

“Fine.” Hubert said, not loosening his grip. “Then I’ll tell you it’s of no concern to you.” 

Ferdinand let out a breath. “It wouldn’t surprise me if you did fight, you know.” he said, growing a little bitter. He fixed Hubert strongly with his eyes, for one to make sure he was paying attention, and also to observe his reaction as he continued. “There's a lack of - not trust, but a lack of communication between you two.” 

It was hard for the other man to look away when there was literally nothing else in front of him. Unfortunately, his face was trained to say less than nothing. Ferdinand went on. “You know how Edelgard reluctantly accepts not knowing about all the work you do for her? Just like that, you both never discuss your points of view on any matter. You just trust each other to act for both of your gain.”

“...Ah, blunt and outright as ever today, are you?” Hubert replied, now also with a trace of bitterness, asking himself why in the heavens Ferdinand would be wasting his time thinking about what he and Edelgard did or did not communicate to each other. In his experience, telling her about his work and feelings had only ever brought trouble to both of them, and that concluded his thoughts on the matter. 

Ferdinand sighed. “You know, I wish I could say the same about you.”

“There’s no lack of anything between Edelgard and me.” Hubert went on, unable to erase a certain biting undertone from his voice. “I just - said some things I shouldn’t have said. Is that enough for you?” 

“...It’s enough for me if you so wish.” was all Ferdinand replied and it sounded a bit tired. He turned away and he stepped to the side, out of the shadow of Hubert’s body. 

“Maybe I’ll talk to you about it, later, over a cup of tea.” Hubert heard himself say before he could prevent it. Damn it, he was really growing attentive (and, apparently, soft) to other people’s feelings. But it brought a smile to the other man’s face, so he supposed he could live with it just this one time. 

Both of them quickly and quietly flattened their hair, then walked out the door as if nothing had happened. 

\----

They hurried towards the big hall where other officials were already gathering. Most of them were only replacements for people who were not currently in Enbarr, such as Linhardt and Caspar who were still out on their travels, but the atmosphere was still the same as it used to be during the immediate aftermath of the war. Even though nobody liked to admit it, they had all silently accepted that it would stay that way long beyond the lifetime of anyone who’d set foot on the battlefield. 

To Hubert, the tension was darkly soothing. War was the environment he’d grown up in, the biome he knew best to traverse. As he headed straight for the conference hall, he could feel his body enter another realm, one where battle was still carved into the stiff bodies, where it dwelled behind their eyes and under their voices. Intuitively, his shoulders tensed, his back straightened, his eyes narrowed. A familiar air of unapproachability wrapped around his body as he took the last resolute steps towards the door.

That was, until he spotted a movement at the pillar next to it, and his focus shifted over to a body that shouldn’t be there. 

“Ah, Bernadetta!” Ferdinand declared, and she jumped as if she had been caught somewhere she was not supposed to be. Slowly, she stepped out and greeted him with a nod. Then her eyes swayed past him to Hubert. Suddenly, any power he had just held slipped away. His eyes stuck to her face, her pale skin, her soft expression, the strands of straggly hair falling around her face. Why was she there? How was he supposed to look at her after the mess that had been last week? Why would he be thinking about how to look at her?

...Why wasn't she turning away already? If her eyes were still on him, something should form in them, a question, a disappointment, anything. But she just kept looking at him painfully softly, and her lips formed a smile so mild it struck him like the sun.

He had to say something. He couldn’t say anything. For Ferdinand or Byleth he would’ve had a comment, a greeting, a snarky smile, something to make clear his position; but in this moment with his eyes stuck between hers, he possessed absolutely nothing but disintegrating wings and a haltless drop towards the edge of the world. He fell, and in his fall he saw Ferdinand notice his hesitation — Panic seized him and with all the force of his mind he ripped himself away, peeled his mind off her, squeezed out a “good morning” and turned his body around to pass the door. When he entered the hall, he felt as if he had left a leg outside. His balance had shifted to the one behind the door.

“Good morning, Bernadetta, Ferdinand, Hubert.” Edelgard’s voice reached him and pulled him back to the hall. He looked to find her pass the door behind him, while Ferdinand was still caught in a short chat outside. As she approached, a short moment of silence spread between them. If he had been waiting for a moment, here it was. He turned towards her and opened his mouth to greet her, but he had forgotten that she, too, would turn her eyes on him. When she did, they were empty. Eyes that said nothing. His determination took a U-turn and fled into a breach. He looked away, and already the moment had passed. Ferdinand caught up to them, exchanged a short greeting with Edelgard, and they took their seats along with the others. 

While they waited for the guests, a familiar silence spread, where everyone revised the plan in their heads and thought about ways to react to possible difficulties. It was usually a strengthening silence where they grew together as the regents of the Empire, but there was no strength in it today, at least not for Hubert. He sat next to Edelgard irritatingly uneasily, trying to keep a cold face, but unable to shake the urge to speak. There were things he had to say. Things she needed to hear. He could feel that she didn’t want him to sit near her, that he was only there because formality dictated it. 

A couple of minutes passed and they felt like an hour. Hubert had now stared at the door on the opposite side for so long that he had memorized the pattern engraved in it. After another five minutes that in his distorted sense of time could’ve been anything from thirty seconds to half an hour, he thought he heard steps behind the wood, but it wasn’t until another forty-one seconds passed - this time he had counted them - that the steps became voices, and then finally they merged into a dark creak as the door moved to let in a row of five people. Seats were taken, greetings were exchanged. Despite being back to a familiar environment, Hubert could not find a feeling of ease.

The meeting did not go well. While no disagreements arose that would threaten the Empire and Brigid’s current peaceful relationship, the conflicts were enough to hinder any sort of progress towards a bit of trust. The name Dagda fell several times. Petra was not regent of Brigid yet, and her grandfather was still immensely cautious — rightfully so — of his small nation’s fragile geographic position. Edelgard knew this and had been hoping to convince him that the Empire had no intention to weaken or attack it - There had been a short time where she had optimistically assumed that sending Petra back to Brigid (together with Dorothea, at that) would have a significant impact, but there was just too much distrust lingering on from times where she had not yet been old enough to understand it.

Hubert could see that it frustrated her; it showed in her slightly too focused stare, the way she narrowed her eyes when she spoke and the white tips of her knuckles in her folded hands. Both of them knew there would be more negotiations tomorrow. 

“Hubert.” she addressed him after the guests had left the hall. “If there is anything you can do to - peacefully - sway this in our favour, please. I entrust it to you.”

“Of course.” It seemed he would have to do some deeper research into the power relations within the borders of Brigid. While he contemplated where to begin spinning threads, he asked Edelgard to clarify a few questions about small changes he had missed, and everything for a moment, just for a small moment, seemed to be as it had been before. Except that her body wasn’t turned to his, her eyes were evading him, and her voice sounded flat as if she was bringing bad news. 

_Are you still mad,_ Hubert wanted to ask, and then he wanted to pinch himself for the question. Of course she was mad. He allowed time to drag for another moment where it was just the two of them, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to hold it there forever. He turned to her and this time when his eyes caught hers, he held them captive.

“Lady Edelgard, I- I never meant to-”

“I know.” Her voice was cold, but he felt in the eyes that rested on him that she understood. She may not have forgiven him, but she would. Eventually, someday, she would. Would she?

“No, I cannot leave it at this.” he blurted out and moved a step towards her, and as she paused for a moment, a list of a million possible things to say ran through his head, but not a single one of them was good enough to tell her. He wanted to tell her that she could make of him whatever she wanted, punish him, execute him, but he knew that would be ridiculous in face of what had happened. _I just wish I could take back everything I said,_ he thought. _I didn’t mean it. I’m an idiot. I’m sorry. I’m sorry._

“Just get back to your duties and we will work this out.” Edelgard preempted him and he realized that he still hadn’t said anything. “Good day, Hubert.”

“I-” he felt a small panic because she was turning to leave. He couldn’t let her leave. He stepped forward again. He could almost touch her now. “No, listen to me!” His voice cracked a little bit. He felt he was crossing a boundary again, but this time he had to. He looked at her pleadingly. “Please,” he said. “Please listen to me.”

“All right.” she replied. 

Hubert took a breath. Then he spoke very slowly. “I let my anger take control of me. It was not really anger at you.” He held eye contact firmly, but behind it there was a softness she hadn't seen in him since they were no longer children. “I apologize, sincerely. I have no appropriate words, none at all, but I... I can only promise nothing of this sort will happen again for as long as I live.”

“I…” Edelgard sighed, and looked away, and looked back. “I want to be mad at you, Hubert, but I can’t, because you… are you, and I can’t change that.” She stared at the ground as she went on quietly. “I need your strength going forward just as much as I needed it before. I suppose in the end, such a fight doesn’t matter.”

 _It does matter,_ Hubert objected, but there was nothing more he could do. After all, she was right. For the Empire, the small feelings between them were of little importance as long as their actions kept aiming at the same goals. His personal regret was something for him alone to deal with. So he said nothing, and that was enough of an answer. She nodded, he bowed, and they parted ways. 

\------

He watched her walk away. The hall was empty now, and for a long moment he kept standing at the door, trying to mold his thoughts into a clear shape. He wasn’t overly successful. At least he had a task now, he had something to busy his mind with. Still, something didn’t fit, and it kept him locked out of the space of mind he had once operated in. It felt like standing outside the castle walls, unable to pass the wide open gates.

He was just considering where to head next, when suddenly his attention was caught by a movement, the same as before at the pillar near the wall. He kept standing still and peeked subtly to the side. Hah, it really hadn’t been necessary to confirm. Was she really still trying to hide? Considering her past experience, one would think she’d be better at it, especially after just having been found out earlier. A tiny smile formed on Hubert’s lips. Something about this felt very nostalgic. Nicely... nostalgic. 

“Are you getting back into the habit of following me?” he asked, and in his voice there hovered a rare sincere amusement. 

“M-maybe? No, I mean, certainly not!” Bernadetta answered, in midst of a panic trying to decide whether to come out or to jump back behind the pillar instead. Hubert felt a small laugh surge in his throat, but he suppressed it in order not to scare her off.

“Do you happen to have something to talk about?” he asked instead, still from a distance. “If you do, I’m here, and I have a minute.”

She took a moment of silence until she nodded, a little embarrassed that she was still caught doing stuff like following people around. But she was just not good at approaching them directly, so it felt natural to observe them, and think to herself first instead of out loud. It helped her, so she could bear being made a little fun of for it. 

She walked over and looked up at Hubert shyly, but there was also that little coy glimmer in her eyes. She looked confident in a way he had never seen her before. 

“Good morning.” she said.

“Good morning.” he said. 

For a shared moment, the hall stood still in the sunlight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next chapter is also gonna be difficult but I'M DETERMINED


End file.
